Matthew Taylor famously gave up his glittering career as an MP to be a better father. Little did he know his son's devastating illness was about to test his love and endurance to the very limit
By Angella Johnson
Last updated at 11:53 PM on 10th January 2010
For a young family it was hardly the ideal lifestyle. The long commute between his constituency in Cornwall and London always put a heavy strain on Liberal Democrat MP Matthew Taylor, his wife Vicky and their two sons.
Every ten days or so he'd pack up the car with toys and other essential household items to drive the 230 miles either way with Vicky and Arthur, now three, and Jacob, nearly two.
Both boys were used to the drive. Indeed, Arthur was considered by his parents to be 'a brilliant traveller'. A gentle and thoughtful child, he loved to talk but rarely fussed.
Smiling again: Matthew and Vicky Taylor with sons Arthur, left, and Jacob
But around March last year, Arthur's mood changed dramatically. Surprisingly articulate for his age, he started to complain loudly that he felt uncomfortable in his car seat. He would wriggle and moan constantly about his discomfort.
'We thought it was either the seat,' said Matthew, 'or that he was growing up and realising how tedious it was to drive for so long, strapped in the back of a car. The journey was five to seven hours, depending on traffic and the weather.'
Arthur's parents took his complaints seriously and started to travel by train. But he continued to get upset during the journey, while at home he was increasingly cranky.
Then, one day in May, while playing in a park near their mews house in South London, he went down a slide and landed on his bottom in a sandpit. He began screaming and crying in pain.
Perhaps because he had never been a particularly robust or sporty child, Matthew, 47, and Vicky, 36, assumed that he had landed badly on his coccyx. But over the next couple of weeks they noticed that the bruising became worse and small veins started to appear.
Even then, the couple merely thought he had injured himself in the sandpit. 'We suspected that he might have cracked something so we took him to our doctor in Kennington,' said Matthew, the MP for Truro and St Austell.
'The doctor examined Arthur and said we should take him immediately to A&E at the nearby St Thomas' Hospital, where they ran a battery of tests. I thought they suspected a haematoma [blood clot] or an abscess.
'Even when the doctors said they wanted to do an MRI scan we had no idea that they were looking for cancer markers. Apparently, the veining was a significant sign.'
By the following morning, the doctors were talking about the possibility of a tumour. 'It was like being struck by a bolt of lightning,' said Matthew.
'The idea of your child having cancer is something no parent could even begin to comprehend. The bleakness is indescribable.
'The popular conception is of horrible treatment and a low chance of success. I looked at my son lying in his hospital bed and my heart felt like it was breaking. I honestly thought he would be unable to cope with the tough road ahead of him.
'He is slight for his age and very gentle. If another child demanded his toy he would simply hand it over. He has always seemed ephemeral - as if something might happen to him. But I never imagined it would be so life-threatening.'
Four days later, the MRI result confirmed the worst possible news - Arthur was suffering from a rare kind of cancer. Matthew broke down in tears and wept openly when he was told.
Glittering career: Matthew Taylor speaking at a Lib Dem conference
'My first thoughts were that he wouldn't survive,' he said. 'From that moment, I prepared myself to lose him even though I desperately wanted the outcome to be positive.'
Matthew has always shared a deep and special bond with his eldest child, who was born at St Thomas' Hospital - across the river from the House of Commons - in November 2006.
'I felt instantly and completely in love with Arthur the moment I held him,' he said.
'I knew pretty much from then that I didn't want politics to consume my life at his expense. I didn't want to be an absent dad like so many parliamentarians.
'I remember looking into his eyes, which are the same as mine, and it was like looking into his soul. He likes to say that we have the same "coloury" eyes, because they change from blue to green depending on the light.'
Two months after Arthur's birth, the charismatic and popular politician, once tipped as a future Liberal Democrat leader, dramatically announced that he would give up his 20-year career. To the amazement of friends and colleagues he declared that a life in Westminster was 'incompatible' with being a father.
He resigned his post as a frontbench spokesman in the Commons and decided not to fight the next Election. It was an enormous wrench for Matthew because politics had played such a big part in his life.
The adopted son of Ken Taylor, the television scriptwriter best known for the ITV serial Jewel In The Crown, and Jill, a stage manager, Matthew has based his life around Westminster and its incestuous media village since he become an MP at the relatively tender age of 24.
After studying politics, philosophy and economics at Oxford, he became a researcher for the Liberal Democrats and was asked to stand for Parliament following the death of Truro MP David Penhaligon in a car crash in December 1986. For ten years, Matthew was the youngest MP in the House.
Politics was his life until he fell in love with Vicky, an attractive environmental campaigner from Cornwall, in 2005. They decided that spending time as a family was preferable to his climbing the greasy political pole.
Becoming a father late in life had, according to Matthew, shifted his priorities.
'I had a pretty idyllic childhood with a very close family and I wanted to replicate it for my children,' he said. 'That's why I'm prepared to walk away from politics, though I'd also become increasingly jaded about the parliamentary system and the idea of standing for re-election had zero appeal.'
The past eight months have vindicated his change of direction. 'As it turns out, this has been the best decision of my life,' he said.
'I've been able to concentrate on Arthur's illness, the family and my constituency casework without having the additional pressure of campaigning to defend my seat.'
For many parents, the stress of coping with a seriously ill child can tear them apart. But it has brought Matthew and Vicky even closer together.
'From the outset we took strength from each other,' she said. 'We tried our best to keep our fear away from Arthur, but waiting for the MRI result was agony.
Career: Matthew Taylor with then Liberal Democrat leader Paddy Ashdown (pictured in 2004)
'We were on autopilot. We didn't eat properly and we hardly slept. We would both just burst into tears, but all the time we were trying to reassure each other. When they confirmed that it was a malignant germ cell tumour, we were in total shock. It was the size of a small grapefruit, around his coccyx and inside his sacrum. For several moments we were both in pieces.
'The doctors were very surprised that Arthur could walk and still use the toilet. They said he must have been in incredible pain for a long time.'
Although the doctors insisted that Arthur's chances of survival were very good, and that such tumours usually responded well to treatment, Matthew initially questioned the wisdom of putting him through chemotherapy if there was a chance he wouldn't make it.
Arthur was transferred to Great Ormond Street Children's Hospital the following week. More tests and bad news followed.
A secondary tumour was found on his spine, close to a position where it would have caused disability, and the cancer had spread to his lungs.
Matthew said: 'Those first two weeks were very bleak. They wanted to start chemotherapy immediately because he was at very high risk. He'd therefore have six rather than four sessions and each would mean spending three or four gruelling days in hospital.
'We were told that Arthur would also need to have an operation, which ran the risk of infertility and double incontinence. Overall, there was an 80 per cent chance of beating the cancer.'
The couple received widespread sympathy and offers of support from the public when news of Arthur's illness was reported. 'We were very lucky,' said Matthew. 'Both of our families - especially Vicky's sister Katie, who had recently qualified as a paediatric nurse - took turns to help us out.
'But it was tough for Vicky and me. We wanted to talk about the worst possible outcome yet we needed to stay positive. Ultimately we just broke down and admitted that neither of us was convinced that it was going to be OK.'
Vicky hated the idea of chemotherapy. 'I had studiously ensured that Arthur only ate organic food and now they were going to flood his system with drugs,' she said. 'But Matthew explained that it worked like the space invaders game and blasted all the cancer cells.'
Ultimately, they knew there was little they could do but support and comfort their son. 'We agreed that it was his path and we couldn't change it,' Vicky added. 'All we could do was hold his hand and try to make it as easy as possible for him. The horror was thinking that this thing would continue to grow in him.'
Arthur's first chemotherapy treatment was on June 23 and Matthew was in turmoil about the outcome. 'I felt he was unlikely to cope because, although he was very bright, I never thought he was particularly robust,' he said.
'During the chemotherapy he lost 4lb and looked terrible. He was a shadow of his former self. He didn't even want to push the buttons of lifts - one of his favourite things. He just wanted to lie in bed. But two weeks after the treatment began he was able to get out of bed and was more of his old self.'
When Arthur's blond curly locks started falling out in July, it was Matthew who cut his child's hair. He said: 'We kept all of it in an envelope and recorded him singing "Happy Birthday, Mummy", which I gave to Vicky for her birthday in July. At the time it was unspoken between us, but we were putting together keepsakes in case he didn't survive.'
But by mid-August, to the delight of all around him, Arthur's tumours had shrunk significantly.
'We knew the treatment was working,' said Matthew. 'They said the main tumour had shrunk to the size of half an orange and the secondary had almost disappeared. It was the first bit of good news we'd had.'
By November, the cancer in his lungs had disappeared. However, the drama was not over. Once the chemotherapy had ended, they focused on the operation.
'Arthur was no longer in pain. He was running around and happy, so it was hard to think of him going under the knife,' said Matthew.
'I found it harder than Vicky. She thought that if we could get rid of it, she would rather he was alive and disabled than dead. I kept thinking about the risks.'
The operation to remove what was left of Arthur's primary tumour took place on December 9. Again, his recovery was swift. The couple were at the Great Ormond Street Christmas party with Arthur on December 17 when they received the most important phone call of their lives.
Matthew recalled: 'We were watching him dancing with Jacob and the other children. His face was painted to look like a tiger and he was having a glorious time. I stepped out of the room to answer my mobile.'
Matthew was told that the operation had successfully cleared the primary tumour and all other traces of cancer had been killed by the chemotherapy.
'I went back into the party and whispered the news to Vicky,' said Matthew. 'We looked at each other and burst into tears. Arthur came running over and asked us why we were crying. We just smiled and said it was because we were so happy it was Christmas.
'We are so grateful to the medical teams, who have all been first-rate. Until something like this happens, I don't think one appreciates how good the NHS is. As for Arthur, he's come out of this stronger and bolder. In the words of the surgeon, "This is as good as it gets."'
Arthur, however, won't have the final all-clear for years. He will have more tests, but there is currently no sign of active cancer and every chance it will stay that way.
Her son's health scare saw Vicky briefly lose her faith in life being fair. 'I've always been very happy and thought myself lucky,' she said. 'Suddenly there was despair and pain and a deep black hole. But it has changed me for the better. I now feel really blessed. I appreciate every day.'
For Matthew, the trauma has strengthened his belief that family comes before all things. 'Arthur's cancer simply made it 100 per cent clear that to resign was the right decision,' he said.
'I want to raise my two sons here in Cornwall where they can breathe fresh air, play in fields and go to the beach. I've still no real plan about how I'm going to earn my living, but I'm sure about one thing - I'm going to be a very hands-on father.'
No comments:
Post a Comment