Cancer is something that I thought I knew all about. I studied it in biology class, just like everyone else. I saw the little pink bows in the store, asking you to support the latest cause, but I never thought that those little pink bows’ significance would impact me like they did. I used to pity all those horrific cancer stories, thinking it might never happen to me, but it did.
It was a regular day at my house in late February when I noticed something strange. My cat’s never stopped watching my Mom. The youngest cat, Al, had kept a very close eye on a small part of my mom’s chest. At first, I thought nothing of it, hoping that the spot was just comfortable. A trip to the doctor would soon prove this tiny, and seemingly inconsequential space, potentially life threatening.
A while later my mom received a call, finding that she was scheduled at the hospital. All day I blocked the feeling of the walls closing in on me, there was another feeling I couldn’t quite justify. The feeling of angst, like as soon as I walked out of that office my life was going to change forever, lingered.
As a child, my Mom was sick. She was always in the hospital. The doctors found a tumor and my Mom almost died. Since that time, I had always been wary of hospitals. The varying shades of white, the nurses in scrubs giving you reassuring smiles, the burning sensation, as you smelled all of the various sanitizers and disinfectants. The institutional appearance is enough to drive me insane.
My mom eventually stumbled out of the doctors’ office, interrupting my flashback. She had tears in her eyes and she turned her pitiful gaze to me, “Well, its cancer”. The words sent a shockwave of stress through me. I was frozen in place, unable to comprehend the life changing words that my mom uttered. The cramped office was suddenly much to small to hold my anguish. My mom led me out to the car and repeated all of the doctors’ words. She said that she would need surgery to remove the cancer.
My Mom eventually received surgery, which went smoothly. The chemotherapy seemed like the last step towards ridding herself of the cancer. The doctors said, “The chemotherapy is going to be harsh,” because my mom’s cancer is so persistent that they needed to use a particular type of medicine. Chemotherapy finally started. There is only one way to describe the experience of sitting there while they pumped the drugs into and my mom’s side affects started. By the time her chemo was over with she was blind in one eye, as the chemo literally burned a hole in her eye. Mom was just happy she got it over with.
I stood by my Mom through it all. I felt as if I was barely hanging on to my sanity. Through the whole experience I tried to stay strong and I learned that even though the outlook seems grim and unpromising, you must stand by your loved ones, always. If you don’t stand by your family, for your sanity, do it for your mom’s.