The last few days have been undeniably hard.
My mother had a double mastectomy on Friday (October 24th) at Fox Chase Cancer Center. She was in surgery for over 12 hours as they removed both of her breasts, and reconstructed them from fat tissue from her stomach. Her body was butchered in every sense of the word. And we tensely waited in the surgical waiting room for close to 16 hours. Every door that opened, every footstep heard coming down the hall, every telephone ring made us jump. The surgery ended with no complications around 9pm and the first thing she asked once awake was, "Where are my girls?"
Still makes me cry thinking about it.
We weren't able to see her for more than a few minutes--basically to give her a kiss goodnight--but we returned early the next morning, armed with pink roses. And even though she was groggy and in a lot of pain, she was all smiles for us.
The last two days have been up and down--yesterday she was in a lot of pain and couldn't get comfortable. It was awful to watch--all I wanted was to take the pain away. But they also had her up and walking, which was astonishing. My mom is a true fighter and has the strength of a warrior.
I realize now, writing this, how lucky she is. How lucky we all are that my aunt--on her deathbed--urged her to go get a mammogram. My mom had been neglecting her own health in the last few years because she was so concerned about her. I thank God that she listened to her. My aunt saved her life because they caught it early. We were surrounded by others in that waiting room who weren't as lucky. Who will have long battles ahead with a lot of bad news.
It's truly scary to think about how close she was--the tumors were right in her armpit, inches from lymph nodes. If she had waited any longer, the outcome would be drastically different.
We truly have someone watching over us on the other side. And I know she's with her even now. Thanks Aunt Annie for protecting her and filling her with strength.
Love you.
Monday, October 27, 2014
Friday, October 10, 2014
Kicked in the Nuts and the Woman Equalitive
My life has been a complete whirlwind the last few months. Or as my Dad says, "We are being kicked in the nuts over and over again." Obviously, I am a female and I do not have nuts. The only female comparison I can compare to this rational is being punch in the boob during certain times of the month.
Or a mammogram; where a heavy steel plate is slammed into your boob over and over again.
Yeah, that sounds about right.
And as I make that comparison, I realize it's pretty fitting for what my family is going through at the moment.
About a month ago, my mom revealed to us that her doctor found something in her right breast during her annual mammogram. And being the person my mother was, she had known for quite awhile and waited to tell us until she had conclusive results; which she now had. She has 3 lumps in her breast, all of which are cancerous.
Are you imagining that foot retracting slowly, then forcefully thrusting forward towards your nuts? Yeah after the summer we just had, it's pretty good imagery.
Obviously, we were all very upset. But that quickly turned to extreme anger.
How is this fair?
Haven't we suffered enough?
Given enough?
Lost enough?
Grieved enough?
We just watched my Aunt--my mom's sister and the closest person to her and us--die after a horrific battle with cancer, only to now watch my mother potentially go through the same thing. I know people say life isn't meant to be fair, but Jesus God this is a lot to handle!
But....I think what we went through this summer has mentally prepared us for this; a hard-won lesson, but meant to prepare us for future hardship. We've been through this--the worst of it in fact--and we know what to expect. We know we need a game plan. We know we need a stress-free environment and positive energy around her. And we know the road is going to be tough. But we are strong; stronger because of what we went through. I'm actually pretty proud of how we have all taken this news; yes we cried and were very upset, but we got it out of our systems and now are on survival and positivity mode. We are not dwelling on what could be, but focusing on recovery. It's the only thing we can do at this point.
My mom will be having a mastectomy and immediate reconstructive surgery on the 24th. It was a hard decision for her to make--one that my Dad wasn't too happy with at first--but it's the best preventative for future reoccurrences. It's an 8-hour long surgery, which blows my mind a bit. She doesn't let on, but I know she's scared--more for us than herself. I catch her every so often just staring into space with a sad look on her face, and I know what she's thinking and I know the only person in the world who could ease her mind isn't here. And it's the one person she needs more than anything. It kills me that she isn't here to talk her through this. But I know she'll be holding her hand through the surgery. At least I hope.
I'm not going to say, "I hope things turn around soon," because I've learned better. Once one thing ends, something else comes creeping up to replace it. It's a constant circle. Instead, I hope we continue to stand strong and be what my mom needs. And if anything else happens--which most likely it will--we'll continue to face it together.
And ice our nuts thoroughly for the next swift kick.
Or a mammogram; where a heavy steel plate is slammed into your boob over and over again.
Yeah, that sounds about right.
And as I make that comparison, I realize it's pretty fitting for what my family is going through at the moment.
About a month ago, my mom revealed to us that her doctor found something in her right breast during her annual mammogram. And being the person my mother was, she had known for quite awhile and waited to tell us until she had conclusive results; which she now had. She has 3 lumps in her breast, all of which are cancerous.
Are you imagining that foot retracting slowly, then forcefully thrusting forward towards your nuts? Yeah after the summer we just had, it's pretty good imagery.
Obviously, we were all very upset. But that quickly turned to extreme anger.
How is this fair?
Haven't we suffered enough?
Given enough?
Lost enough?
Grieved enough?
We just watched my Aunt--my mom's sister and the closest person to her and us--die after a horrific battle with cancer, only to now watch my mother potentially go through the same thing. I know people say life isn't meant to be fair, but Jesus God this is a lot to handle!
But....I think what we went through this summer has mentally prepared us for this; a hard-won lesson, but meant to prepare us for future hardship. We've been through this--the worst of it in fact--and we know what to expect. We know we need a game plan. We know we need a stress-free environment and positive energy around her. And we know the road is going to be tough. But we are strong; stronger because of what we went through. I'm actually pretty proud of how we have all taken this news; yes we cried and were very upset, but we got it out of our systems and now are on survival and positivity mode. We are not dwelling on what could be, but focusing on recovery. It's the only thing we can do at this point.
My mom will be having a mastectomy and immediate reconstructive surgery on the 24th. It was a hard decision for her to make--one that my Dad wasn't too happy with at first--but it's the best preventative for future reoccurrences. It's an 8-hour long surgery, which blows my mind a bit. She doesn't let on, but I know she's scared--more for us than herself. I catch her every so often just staring into space with a sad look on her face, and I know what she's thinking and I know the only person in the world who could ease her mind isn't here. And it's the one person she needs more than anything. It kills me that she isn't here to talk her through this. But I know she'll be holding her hand through the surgery. At least I hope.
I'm not going to say, "I hope things turn around soon," because I've learned better. Once one thing ends, something else comes creeping up to replace it. It's a constant circle. Instead, I hope we continue to stand strong and be what my mom needs. And if anything else happens--which most likely it will--we'll continue to face it together.
And ice our nuts thoroughly for the next swift kick.
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