My Mother

So as promised, I sat down today to continue to catch you up to the present and as I started trying to a write a witty little blurb about my family history, I realized that I simply cannot be honest with you, nor truly discuss the journey that I am traveling without talking about my mother.  Though not a day that goes by that I don't think of her, I rarely talk about her.  Yet today, as I was getting my Herceptin treatment, she quietly revealed herself into a conversation.  I was talking to my nurse about how much treatment had changed since my mother went through cancer treatment, when she asked me whether I missed her... especially now.  When answering my nurse's question, I found myself drowning in my words, unable to speak.  I realized this evening how frightened I am to confront the depth of the gap I feel without her... especially now.  

As many of you already know, my mother died in 1998 of lung cancer.  What many of you don't know is that more than a decade prior to that, my mother also battled breast cancer, which was totally unrelated to the lung cancer that ultimately took her life.  Ironically, my mother is actually a breast cancer survivor.  You see, my mother had breast cancer before chemotherapy existed; before radiation began to beam through cancer cells; before reconstructions and implants; before there were pathology reports to tell you how your cancer behaved; before there were any options.  Though cancer ultimately defeated my mother's body, my mother's story is one of a woman not only fighting and surviving cancer, but thriving after it, and this is the example that I'm carrying with me as work my way through this battle.  That said, I would be lying if I told you that the synchronicity of our circumstances isn't paralyzing.  In many ways, I am reliving my mother's own battle and reconnecting with memories and emotions that I have buried and suppressed for many years.  With every step I take through my treatment, I am retracing the steps she took down the same path, and all the missteps I took during the most difficult period of her life.  At the same time I am longing for her support, wishing I could hear her calm, even voice disarm and diffuse all my fears.  Nearly 10 years after my mother's death, I am standing here face to face with her killer, and my only wish is that she were here to shield me from its menace.  Yet my reality is that there is only an empty space in front of me and the only way to vindicate the emptiness is to fight my cancer with every part of my being, and hope that in fighting, I can feel her strength and learn her grace for myself.  So for her sake and mine, I'm going to put on my ninja gear, look cancer in the eye and take it down for the both of us.

October 19, 2008, almost exactly a month after my last chemo treatment, marks the 10th anniversary of my mother's passing.  I hope that all of you will join me on that day to toast both of our lives as I move from a cancer fighter to a cancer survivor.  

I miss you and love you mom.  Te extrano mas que puedes imaginerte.  I promise to fight this for us and for all the people who have fallen to this disease.

As always thanks for reading.

Straight from the trenches

-DT

PS I promise it will be lighter next time.