Mom's Diagnosis- Chapter 2

"When you love someone, when you care for someone, you have to do it through the good and the bad. Not just when you're happy and it's easy."

In the months following my mothers diagnosis, there was many ups and downs. There was many laughs and tears. It was a blessing and a curse. I believe it was by far the most beautiful blessing that has ever happened to me though.

To give you an idea of some of the most painful moments my mother and myself had to endure there was the biggest and hardest of them all. The phone call with the results of her biopsy on the lump in her breast.

I was at work, patiently waiting this phone call at any moment. I see "mom" show up on the caller ID. At my desk, I answered to here her crying on the other end. My heart immediately sank into my stomach. I knew. I knew what she was calling to tell me. She didn't have to say a word. A pause between us both and there it was. As tears rolled down her eyes she spoke the words "I have cancer."

I paused for a moment, took a deep breath and swallowed. When I spoke, I just told her it would be OK and that we can't worry until we know exactly what this meant. I followed that statement with "Mom, people survive breast cancer everyday." She just cried. We hung up eventually, and i slid down the wall and sat on the floor and burst into tears.

The nightmare had begun.

The next painful moment came just a few days later when I went with her to meet with the first doctor, Dr. James. He would be the surgeon who would determine a plan. As we sat in the doctors office discussing the type of cancer she had, what the plan of treatment options would be, I could see it in her eyes how scared she had become. This was my mom- the warrior of my life. The strongest person I knew, the woman I looked up to my entire life, breaking right in front of me and I couldn't change a damn thing. We both had lost all control over this situation.

The words she spoke were "I don't want to die." Then when the doctor explained to her that the type of breast cancer she had was genetic, she suddenly shifted and her worry was about her kids. I will never forget the words that followed next... "I don't want to pass this down to my children or grand children. I want to see my daughter get married and have a kid (referring to me)." We all sort of chuckled and I told my mom to settle down about me getting married. As she knew that wasn't a reality any time soon. She sure did love to pressure me. Really, she just knew me well enough to know what I always wanted for my life, which was to have a family.

We left that day with a plan. The plan was to start Chemo to shrink the size of her tumor so that surgery would be less invasive and a quicker recovery followed by radiation.

The Brain Mets: Once we found out her cancer had spread to her brain everything shifted. We suddenly had to put Chemo on hold and treat these first so they didn't do any more damage such as causing anymore strokes or seizures.


We sat in Dr. O'Connor's office to discuss now the options on how to treat the brain mets. She gave my mother 2 options. Whole brain radiation or Spot welding radiation. Then she slowly explained the side effects of radiation for each one. Both having significant short term memory loss as an option. She immediately broke down in tears. Worse than I had heard her before. Scared doesn't even describe how she could have felt in this moment.

I grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly as the doctor handed her a box of tissues. My mother then asked the question "what will happen if I don't do the radiation?" She signed the paperwork and went with the spot welding treatment in hopes that with chemo and radiation in hopes no more would spread and go to her brain.

The following week we were sent into Boston Beth Israel for the spot welding treatment. It would be a 4 day 30-50 minute process each day to radiate each tumor individually. The first day, I walked back with her to the table where they laid her down and strapped her face into this terrible entrapment. She had told me about it the day she had it molded to her face a few days prior, but I hadn't seen it.

Not realizing I probably wasn't suppose to walk back there with her, I kissed her and wished her luck. Stood to the side and watch them screw her head into this crazy thing. They asked her if she could breath and if it was too tight. I could hear the panic in her voice when she responded. I quickly walked out of the room and cried. I never wanted to see my mother like that ever again.

The Set Backs: It was only a couple months into her treatments. Her body was handling the Chemo really well and she hadn't had any more symptoms of strokes or seizures from her brain mets. However, the first of only two doctors appointments I missed she was walking into the office when they called her in and she tripped, fell and fractured her hip.

I was at work patiently awaiting the phone call from the doctor so I could conference into the appointment and ask any necessary medical questions or concerns. I hadn't heard anything. The time passed and almost an hour later she finally calls me to tell me shes in the ER with a broken hip.

The guilt I felt was unlike any I had ever felt in my life. The one appointment I couldn't be there for. She was already so nervous going with out me and of course this would happen. This set her treatment back a week or so. Allowing her cancer to continue it's growth.

The next set back was while I took a trip to London. The trip, I never got to enjoy. I was 2 weeks out from leaving and told m mother I was going to cancel my trip. She begged me not too. She would not have it. So, I did as my mother would want me to do. Go. We scheduled her chemo a few days before I left. Knowing she would feel her worst on the Friday and I would have left on Thursday I made arrangements.

The arrangement I made was to have my brother and sister check in on her on that Friday-Sunday I was away. I specifically requested to make sure she didn't have a fever of 100.4 or higher as requested by the doctor. That she was eating and drinking as much as she could bare.

While in London I called her on Facetime, she was acting odd. I knew. Something was wrong. I didn't know what. I cried that night when I hung up. I just knew something wasn't right. I flew home 2 days later. She picked me up and again, she was complaining of hot sweats etc. We got home I checked her temperature and sure enough she had a fever.

I monitored her the entire night to make sure she did not get worse. This night, I didn't sleep. I listened to her breathing as I laid in my cot in the living room. For a moment I heard it slow and almost stop. I panicked. Went into her room and she was fine.

I can remember those nights vividly. I can feel the fear today the same as I did every night laying there. The fear of her never waking up again and I would find her in her room not breathing. As a caregiver of someone who is dying, these are the things that constantly worry you or run through your brain. Constantly worrying about what could go wrong, analyzing the persons every thought, move, breath, twitch, headache, pain, and feeling. It's never ending.

We arrived at her doctors appointment the next day, she was sent upstairs to the Chemo floor to get IV fluids. It was then she was hooked and starting her fluids she started shaking and shivering. I got her 3 warm blankets and tucked her in. It didn't stop. A few more minutes went by, she started crying and asking why it wouldn't stop and how to make it stop. I grabbed a few more blankets, still didn't stop. My mother finally told me she lied to everyone. While I was away, she had a temperature of 104. She told everyone only of 100.

I ran out to grab her nurse and have her check her blood pressure. It was normal. Eventually it stopped. They then sent her to the emergency room. Turns out, she had an infection in her lung and pneumonia.

These set backs were so difficult. Leading to more and larger problems. Blood transfusions, different chemo treatments, more tests, more blood work. It just never seemed to get easier.

So many tears were cried.

These were just a few of the hardest times we shared together throughout her battle.