My mom “Mell” was diagnosed with stage 4 Breast Cancer May of 1999. She brought the entire family together for a Mothers Day Brunch and told us all at once. I was 40 at the time, my daughter Megan was a senior in high school and my son Nick was 7. We were all stunned, and I remember feeling angry. Looking back now, was I angry because mom took it so nonchalantly, was it because she didn’t get mammograms like she should have been doing, or was it because she hadn’t told me before everyone else? I still don’t know the answer.
If you knew my mom she was very independent, never asked for help-she was going to fight this on her own. At the time she was diagnosed we had just put my grandma into a nursing home and my mom decided to move closer to take care of her. That meant she was now two plus hours from me and my kids. I tried to go to her appointments with her but as I said “she was going to do this herself” she felt like she was already a burden. Because of this way of thinking she opted to have a lumpectomy instead of a mastectomy (which I believe could have saved her life). She was a number in the healthcare system, her oncologist was very cold and assumed she knew things that he should have explained to her. He kept prescribing new drugs without telling her which ones to now discontinue. The last office visit with him I was able to be there, he had her in tears making her feel stupid. Needless to say I am my mom’s daughter and he got a piece of my mind and she never had to go back to him again. We had a new doctor the next day.
She was in remission for a little under a year, fell and broke her hand in 3 places. When they x-rayed the fracture the cancer had spread to her bones. At that point they decided to do a double mastectomy, the healing was horrendous. Gaping wounds that would not heal and meds that were making her so sick. Things turned for the worst in a very short period of time. Mom wanted to stay in her home and not be in an assisted living facility. She also decided that she would take up smoking again, which she had been a non-smoker for 15 years. I contacted her best friends, my brother and sister and we worked out a schedule that one of us would be with her at all times. Not only did we have to make sure she ate, was bathed but also make sure she didn’t burn the house down. By this time she was barely able to walk with the aid of a walker. She would fall asleep and drop lit cigarettes. But we were diligent and kept her safe.
I was driving over 2 hours a day to spend time with her, I wasn’t able to bring the kids often since they have severe allergies and all her smoking was a risk I couldn’t put them in. Fall 2003 it was my turn to stay with her, she wasn’t mobile at all at this point and I was carrying her into the bathroom (she refused to use a bed pan) and I dropped her. To this day I still feel so much guilt because I know how badly it hurt. The cancer has metastasized to her bones and we had just found out to her brain. I was able to get her back in bed and situated and I made a call to the hospice nurse- it was time to place her where she would be cared for by professionals. It all happened within a couple days. After getting her settled in she looked at me and told me,” I will never forgive you for putting me here, go away and never come back”. My heart was broken, I knew this was in her best interest but she didn’t see it that way. My grandma died in November of 2003 and mom passed away Dec 23, 2003. She passed without ever speaking to me again- I rallied the family together one last time, we talked to her, the grand-kids sang to her. I think it was around 10 pm we all left- remember I had the two hour drive, just past midnight I got the call from the nurse in charge that mom had passed. I think she waited for everyone to be there before she finally let go. So here we are 16 years later and I still feel guilty I didn’t let my mom stay in her home.
The pain that comes with this terrible disease is awful, the drugs, the nausea, feeling like not getting out of bed. She felt sick and weak more often than having a good day. She didn’t know what to ask for, for that matter neither did I. I feel the doctors should have given more information, maybe if they had talked her out of the lumpectomy and had a radical mastectomy instead she would still be here. I don’t know the answers and I never will. What I do know is we need to find a cure, we need to educate women to get annual mammograms. We need a better support system. And this is why I am so involved with Dance for Tata’s and Impact One, we need to make a difference.
Jeannie Day