In early January 2012, Mathew T. “Mammo” Mammosser, was at his computer, assembling a video of his best football plays to send to colleges.
Matt was full of hope that the football team at his high school, Joliet Catholic Academy, would win the state championship later that year, his senior year.
On May 27, 2012, however, Matt, 18, died from primary nervous system metastatic melanoma, a rare cancer that, even today, is challenging to diagnose and treat, especially when melanoma doesn’t appear on the skin.
Since then, Matt’s family formed the nonprofit Mammo Strong Inc., which has raised $136,000 to date to help kids medically or academically.
The 9th Annual Mamo-Palooza will be from 2 to 9 p.m. Saturday at St. Joe’s Park, 700 Theodore St. in Joliet.
The event includes kids activities, a cornhole tournament, raffle baskets, silent auctions and food, beer and wine to buy. Live entertainment will be provided by Ukulele Moonshiners, Six String Crossing and Strung Out.
Susan Mammosser, Matt’s mother, said in an email that Matt’s love for sports was “his ultimate joy” and that Matt played “every sport imaginable.”
That’s because sports didn’t require studying, tests or being graded, she said. Sports only required Matt’s strength and “belief in himself to do his very best,” she said.
“Matt was born profoundly deaf, and the challenges he faced in school were pretty tough because of it,” Susan said. “But he never let his hearing impairment define who he was to become or let anyone give him the easy way out, either. In fact, it made him work even harder in everything he did to prove that you can succeed no matter what obstacles you face in life, if you believe in yourself, work hard and never quit.
“But having this disability also molded him into the most-caring, understanding and accepting young man who taught us more in his short life how to live than most people do in a lifetime. [He] was always first in line to lend a helping hand, whatever you needed it.”
It wasn’t the flu
Shortly after Matt signed off the computer Jan. 6, 2012, Susan said he grabbed a bowl of ice cream, took one bite and said, “I don’t feel good,” before getting up from his chair and falling to the floor.
Matt had flu symptoms that night, so Susan assumed he had the flu – until he was lethargic the next morning and unable to move his left arm and leg. Susan said she called an ambulance, which led to a CT scan at a local hospital that found a mass in his brain.
Soon, Matt was airlifted to the hospital now known as the Ann & Robert H. Lurie Children’s Hospital of Chicago, Susan said.
Susan said despite her pleadings, she was not allowed to ride with Matt, even though “the poor thing was totally deaf.”
“We had to go by car,” Susan said.
Susan said more tests suggested Matt had a small brain bleed for unknown reasons. It wasn’t related to his cochlear implant or playing football, she said.
“It was more toward the top center of the brain,” Susan said.
Matt eventually had four weeks of rehabilitation at the facility now known as the Shirley Ryan AbilityLab. Shortly after he was released, he returned to school on a part-time basis. He then began vomiting, Susan said.
After another CT scan and an MRI, doctors decided to operate and remove whatever was invading Matt’s brain. After they diagnosed him with primary nervous system metastatic melanoma, doctors checked Matt’s skin “from head to toe” because melanoma typically starts there, Susan said.
“They couldn’t determine where in the heck this came from,” Susan said.
Fighting, hoping – and a legacy
Matt received six sessions of proton radiation at the site of the melanoma in his brain and made several trips to Chicago for additional CTs and MRIs, she said. He was scheduled for his first chemotherapy treatment on the Tuesday after Easter Sunday, Susan said.
But when Matt woke up Monday, his incision was full of fluid. He had surgery again to drain all the infection from the incision, Susan said.
“And then pretty much things went downhill from there,” Susan said.
Susan said Matt had maybe one chemotherapy session before the cancer spread.
“Till the very end, we had to hope,” Susan said. “Every parent wants to protect their kids and keep them safe. It’s hard to sit and feel so helpless, [knowing] that [there is] nothing you can do to help your child get through this, much less trying to explain what’s going on.”
Susan said she has a special place in her heart for Lightways Hospice and Serious Illness Care, formerly Joliet Area Community Hospice, for it controlled Matt’s pain and allowed the family to bring him home, where family and friends could visit him, she said.
The “Mammo-Palooza” was held in October 2012. It’s continued every year in his Matt’s memory, Susan said. He wanted to be a firefighter when he graduated from college, which his siblings have since done, she said.
As a young boy, Matt loved fire trucks because they were loud enough for him to hear, Susan said. But that’s not why Matt veered toward firefighting.
“He wanted to be a firefighter to help people, like so many people had helped him,” Susan said. “Of course, he never got the chance to do that. So we are carrying on his memory – and his legacy of his big heart.”
For information, visit mammostrong.org.