8/1/2025 - One hundred and fifty brain 🧠infusions
In support of
Castillote family
View Support Registry
Castillote family
Today Aug 1, 2025 Marks a Profound Milestone:
ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY brain infusions for these Batten’s Fighting Siblings.
#150 🧠💪
My heart is overflowing.
There are never enough pages to capture the weight of this journey—
The sorrow, the strength, the ache of brokenheartedness đź’”
And yet, the countless blessings that have graced our path too.
Nothing… nothing prepares you for this kind of life.
Maleea was just 13 when diagnosed.
By her 14th birthday, we were told the unthinkable: terminal.
She had to say goodbye to cheerleading, her friends, her world—
And within four weeks, she was in brain surgery.
Her young life, already marked by procedures, surgeries, and appointments that most never endure.
Then Malachi—just stepping into his senior year at 18—
Told he was terminal.
Told he had to let go of everything he knew.
Told to prepare in two weeks to leave his home in Washington,
To live at the Ronald McDonald House in Orange County—for an unknown amount of time.
Life hasn’t stopped.
But the medical reality?
Some days it’s simply unbearable.
From financial struggles to insurance battles,
To managing medications, caregiver exhaustion, marital strain, emergency room nights...
The list goes on.
And yet—today, I choose LIFE.
We choose to keep living it.
To seek moments of joy,
To move forward, even if just one step at a time.
To hold onto humility and love fiercely.
We keep showing up.
Because even something as simple as finding friends who stick around—that too, is a battle.
But for Maleea and Malachi, our Batten’s Warriors—
CHEERS to your 150th brain infusion.
We see your courage.
We feel your fight.
We love you beyond words.
Keep going. Keep fighting. We’ve always got you—no matter what
ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY brain infusions for these Batten’s Fighting Siblings.
#150 🧠💪
My heart is overflowing.
There are never enough pages to capture the weight of this journey—
The sorrow, the strength, the ache of brokenheartedness đź’”
And yet, the countless blessings that have graced our path too.
Nothing… nothing prepares you for this kind of life.
Maleea was just 13 when diagnosed.
By her 14th birthday, we were told the unthinkable: terminal.
She had to say goodbye to cheerleading, her friends, her world—
And within four weeks, she was in brain surgery.
Her young life, already marked by procedures, surgeries, and appointments that most never endure.
Then Malachi—just stepping into his senior year at 18—
Told he was terminal.
Told he had to let go of everything he knew.
Told to prepare in two weeks to leave his home in Washington,
To live at the Ronald McDonald House in Orange County—for an unknown amount of time.
Life hasn’t stopped.
But the medical reality?
Some days it’s simply unbearable.
From financial struggles to insurance battles,
To managing medications, caregiver exhaustion, marital strain, emergency room nights...
The list goes on.
And yet—today, I choose LIFE.
We choose to keep living it.
To seek moments of joy,
To move forward, even if just one step at a time.
To hold onto humility and love fiercely.
We keep showing up.
Because even something as simple as finding friends who stick around—that too, is a battle.
But for Maleea and Malachi, our Batten’s Warriors—
CHEERS to your 150th brain infusion.
We see your courage.
We feel your fight.
We love you beyond words.
Keep going. Keep fighting. We’ve always got you—no matter what
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