Cancer is a dirty word

As I sit here, at my desk, contemplating the final week of my mother’s chemotherapy treatments, I’m reminded of the past six months and how much they’ve changed my life.

In January if would have told me that (in only a few months time) my mother would become ill, I probably would have laughed in your face and reminded you that my mother doesn’t get sick.  You see, that’s what I heard for years and years.  My mother always told all of us that she doesn’t get sick.  She’d often laugh and add that it was because she “takes her vitamins.”  I’m not convinced that the gummy vitamins she’d take on a daily basis actually helped that much, but she was and that’s all that matters.

I still remember exactly what I was doing when I heard the news.  I was sitting at my desk, just as I am now, writing a blog post.  Only then, the blog post was much more free and happy.

It’s a tough thing hearing that your mother has cancer; especially when it’s my mother. As I’m sure I’ve mentioned before, my mother struggles on a daily basis with death.  I’m still convinced that it’s PTSD, but that’s another story.   I’ve spent the majority of my life watching my mom worry (and often make herself sick) about every little cough, sneeze, or pain that she, my father, or one of my siblings have faced.  Seeing her watch her mother fade quickly with dementia certainly didn’t help the cause.  I knew that, once I heard the diagnosis, it would be me who had to keep her in good spirits through the process.

All in all, I think I did an OK job.  I’ve reminded her as often as I could how much I love her and how important she is to all of us.  I’ve done anything and everything that she has asked me to do; and, even some that she hasn’t.  Along the way, there were some significant bumps in the road and every little set back that could possibly happen has.

As I mentioned at the start, she is in her final week of chemo.  On October 31st she will get another CAT Scan to see where we need to go from here.  As many of you should know, I’m not an overly religious person, but I do believe.  We could use all of the good thoughts and prayers that we can get.  It’s been the roughest six months of my life; I really want my Mom back now, is that too much to ask for?


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