So... my Mum was diagnosed with breast cancer...
I never ever expected to hear that my Mum, at 56 years old would be diagnosed with cancer. She was diagnosed in August this year after finding a lump on the underside of her breast that caused her a lot of pain.
She made the fortunate mistake of mentioning the lump to me and both my sister and I bullied her in to getting it checked out.
We all tried to assure each other it was probably nothing to worry about but it was safer to just be sure. And as examinations turned in to further testing, further examining we all grew nervous for the results.
And finally, the day came where she and I went to the Breast Cancer clinic to get the final results. It was nerve-wracking and scary and I’d spent over a week doing daily prayer devotions as well as asking everybody that I know to say prayers for the results. My Mum went in to receive her results and I was left in the waiting room reciting a Divine Mercy Rosary under my breath. A nurse came out and waved me in to the room and after some confusion, I followed her.
The first thing I noticed was the breast cancer kit sitting on the examination bed. I looked warily from my Mum to the nurse as our fears were confirmed. Both my Mum and I, we are certainly not criers. We both enjoy finding sick humour in difficult times — but I cried. I burst in to tears.
It was surreal, awful, scary… Didn’t seem fair.
Isn’t fair.
Once we had the information and began giving everyone the news, we got the same responses; “Oh I know someone who had breast cancer…” and even dismissive responses, “Don’t worry, usually everyone who gets breast cancer comes out fine.” Thanks for telling both my Mum and I not to worry about having cancer. That’s helpful. (Insert eyeroll here).
I was pleasantly surprised by the goodness in people who are near-strangers, and not so pleasantly surprised by others who I expected compassion from — but that’s always the thing about hard times, isn’t it? You seem to figure out who your true friends are. Thankfully, the responses and support have been far better than not, so I can’t really complain.
On August 30th, Mum had a lumpectomy where the tumor (carcinoma) was removed from her left breast. It was 2.3cm which is apparently considered to be on the larger side. The surgeon removed all of the cancer and one lymph node which was apparently okay. Her other test results; bone scans, CT scans – they all came back clear.
Because of the size of the cancer and the form of the cancer, it has been decided that my Mum will benefit from chemotherapy. Initially, we believed that she would just endure radiation therapy and that would be the end of this ordeal, but 2 weeks ago we were given different news.
Chemotherapy sounds scary. It makes all the dismissive comments seem rude, and it makes us all feel just that little bit more frightened of the initial breast cancer diagnosis. Still, Mum and our friends and family continue to make light of the situation. Its the best we can do with such a horrible journey ahead of us.
She’s going to have 6 rounds of chemotherapy over a span of 21 days each round.
After the chemotherapy the 42% chance of the cancer returning will be halved.
After the chemotherapy my Mum will endure 5 days of radiation therapy for 6 weeks straight. Though, in comparison to the chemotherapy this seems like cake.
After the radiation therapy, she the 21% chance of the cancer returning will be halved yet again.
Update>>>
And that is where we are at right now. I will probably spend a lot of time blogging about this in the coming months. What our experiences are like, how we are feeling and how she is traveling. And maybe even photos of us being complete sickos and making a joke of this awful situation.
As the saying goes, if you don’t laugh, you cry. And we hate crying.
Currently, personally I feel okay – rich to say that when you’re not the person on the receiving end of the chemotherapy treatment. I consider my Mum to be my best friend — and I know that sounds cliched, but its true. So whatever I’m feeling I know she is feeling tenfold. I'm only 29, I can't have anything happening to my Mum...
Last week I was sad. I had a hard week and every time I relaxed, the thought of my Mum going through chemo kept coming back and smacking me in the head. Similar to how my Mum described first learning about having cancer. At times when I share how its going with people, I get frustrated because nobody is saying ‘the right thing’. Though, that’s not anybody’s fault, because realistically, there is no ‘right thing’ for anyone to say. There is not one sentence that anyone can say that will take away the weight of what my Mum and my family are going through. There is not one sentence that will be able to make us feel like everything is fine; well not a realistic sentence at that.
I’m finding my patience not particularly boding well with people who are constantly complaining about the motions of life. While its not anyone elses fault my Mum and my family are going through this, it feels hurtful at times to hear that people’s worlds are still spinning with very little regard for the fact that ours has stopped for the moment.
Sounds ridiculous, and I’m aware of that. But, I don’t really feel guilty for the motions that I’m going through and I can only imagine that my Mum would feel similarly and that my sister and brother feel the same.
I’m hopeful and faithful that everything will be okay by the end of her treatment. I hope that time passes very quickly and she will be done with the chemotherapy fast and that she will experience very little side-effects if any at all.
So it begins next week, and I will continue blogging about what is in store over the months and how its all going. I will apologise in advance for perhaps more heart-felt and whiny posts, for angry posts and for bitter posts, but since I hate crying and carrying on; this will probably be my outlet.
Thanks everyone who is reading this...
>>>> WRITTEN October 01, 2012.
