I mentioned in my last post that my family was going through a bit of a hard time. Naturally, when a member of your family gets diagnosed with something like cancer, it takes it's toll on every member. I have seen the stresses my illness has had on our family. We're tired. It was a long winter. Our eyes are a bit dark and our brains are a bit fuzzy. The stress fills you up inside and you brush it off because you know tomorrow is coming and this isn't over yet. It isn't easy to watch someone you love suffer. I know that.
I can also, genuinely, say that these last few months have been some of the best I can remember .
It's sad to admit, but I have spent more time with my family then I have since I was a kid. You can't pick your family, but if I could, I would pick mine over and over again. We are meant to be together. It has become so clear to me in how we have made it through this winter. I have had my family by my side during this whole process: every chemo, every headache, every heartache. I have had my mom, sister and dad every step of the way. My dad will stop by and bring me a coffee when he's on his way to a catering just to check in on me. He calls me every morning. My mom has never left my side and has bathed me, read to me, slept beside me and kept me company. My sister has made me laugh and never let me take this whole thing too seriously. She is also so kind. She is the most genuine person I know.
I have gotten to spend time getting to know my cousins. I get to talk to my aunts and uncles more regularly. I have the best, most caring, kind, selfless, and loving godmother in the entire world, of this I am positive (I now have a cleaning service for a year, so that speaks for itself, but mainly for all of the beautiful text messages I receive daily that help keep me positive and thinking about the big picture).
My family is stuck with me. My diagnosis, my treatments, especially my genes. It would have been easy to send well wishes and go about life. But they remember every appointment, every milestone, and cheer me on every step. They make me feel like I am better the way I am now. That cancer has freed me, that this time I've spent healing has made me more... "me".
My mom was diagnosed with breast cancer less then 4 weeks ago. She is going in for surgery this Wednesday (I am sitting in the hospital waiting for her right now, actually). I want to respect her privacy. Writing this blog has gotten a whole lot more complicated. I don't want to speak for her, but she said it was OK I post about it. It has changed how I feel about everything. Despite my great need to respect her privacy, I would love if you could take all of your positivity and love you have shown me and send it her way. She needs it more then I do, at the moment.
My genetics were negative so our cancer is unrelated. I wonder sometimes if I'm being taught a lesson. If I'm being told to take action, to make great strides in cancer related work. There must be a reason that less then a week after I finished my last chemo, my mom would find out she will undergo the same surgery I will less then a week after mine.
When we tell this to our nurses and other well wishers, everyone inevitably starts to tear up. It's shocking. It's actually... unbelievable.
She went for a mammogram when I was diagnosed. They wanted to do one, "just to be safe". I wonder if in an alternate universe, my mom got cancer and never found it. I wonder if, because of this, I was given cancer so that she would be sent to find hers before it got too far. When I think that way, it makes me feel better. It gives it some meaning. Regardless, we will both live. We're going to be okay.
I could keep saying how unbelievable it all is, how unfair life can be. I know my mom can't accept that it's true: she was supposed to be the one to care for me. She wants everyone's attention to be focused on my healing. It was supposed to be my battle. She was going to help me through it. That's how she sees it, anyways.
My mom and I have this strong, sometimes strange, intertwined relationship. We just know each other. I have always felt this closeness to my mom that has never compared to anyone else in my life. It's like we are the same person; sometimes it's hard to distinguish her from me. She knows me better then anyone else. I never have to make my mom a Christmas list: she will know exactly what I want, before I even know I want it. In high school, she never told me my purple eye makeup was too much, that my music was scaring her (when your kid starts relating to Marilyn Manson, I can imagine that can be a bit nervewracking), and she let me sleep on a mattress on the floor when I was a teenager because I thought I was cool. I never once felt ashamed, embarrassed, or that I had to hide my true self from her. It has come out in my multiple hair colours, nail polish, and ever-changing taste in music. Each one equally as supported as the last. Even to this day, she is the first one I want to talk to about all of my new hobbies and activities (or more recently, side effects and doctors appointments).
So I guess, somewhere, in some alternate reality, it makes perfect sense we would have cancer together. I couldn't go through this life altering diagnosis by myself. And while I knew that I had my mom's support, I guess the world thought we needed to both have this experience together. To continue to truly understand one another.
I have asked myself multiple times, privately and on this blog: why is this happening? Is cancer really "random"? Is there a higher being, is there an alternate reality, is there a real reason this is happening to me, and not someone else? What am I supposed to learn from this experience? How will this change me? What will I do with this new life of mine when this year is done? Why me?
With the news of my mom, I have so many more questions. I have spoken multiple times on my blog about the "random"-ness that has come to me in times of need through people that I have believed are here to show me I am doing OK. I'm on the right track. There has always been a little sign. I feel so strongly that this just has to be too coincidental to be random.
I was watching Mad Men last night, there are only 3 episodes left until the series finale. They are tying up loose ends. Things that have happened in season 1 or 2 are finally being explained. Everything comes around full circle. It made me think of this situation.
I may not know why this is happening to me (us) now, but I don't doubt, somewhere down the road, it will become clear. It usually does.
My mom was diagnosed with breast cancer less then a week
after my last chemo. We have been attending all of our pre-op appointments
together. Our surgeon can't believe this could be happening. No one at our hospital has
ever seen anything like this before.
It's almost unbelievable. But... is it, really? Mom: we have been through everything else together. It only makes sense that together, we will get through this too.
xx
Sam
