My Wish for 2012

Just a short message to wish you all a happy New Year. I hope 2012 will be a year filled with love, joy, and good health. My wish for 2012? Well, that is an easy one. I hope my mom beats her breast cancer and maintains the positive spirit she has armed herself with. She is much stronger than I could ever imagine – much stronger than I am sometimes.

Luckily mom will be operated on Jan 3, which is less than 2 days from now. The sooner the tumor is out of her body, the better as far as I am concerned. That nasty fucker does not belong and will never belong in her body. Good riddance.

 

What Does This Mean For My Boobs?

Before breast cancer sneaked its way into my world, I never really realized the extent of the disease footprint. Yes, I have always known about the abstract facts – including the one that one in eight women will get breast cancer at some point. But I never realized the illness’s omnipresence and visibility in society. Wherever I look, I am reminded of the fact that my mom has a lump in her breast.

From my brand of deodorant supporting the Pink Ribbon campaign to news articles about famous women suffering from it and ads in magazines and posters in fitting rooms motivating women to check their boobs for irregularities: breast cancer seems to be everywhere.

It is scaring me. It seems to be the new flu. What if I am one of those women? We after all have a family history of cancer. My great-grandmother apparently died of breast cancer, my grandfather (mom’s dad) suffered from skin cancer, dad’s father had bladder cancer and mom’s mom also battled cancer (successfully, I have to add).

So yeah, while I am still digesting the news of my mom being sick, I also wonder what this could mean for me. I have never worried about my boobs, ever. To me, they have always been perfect. But now the girls suddenly seem a little threatening.

Dealing With The News

I know I have to be strong for my mom and my dad. It is after all my mom who is sick and my dad who has spent nearly 40 years by her side. He is a strong guy, dad, but when it comes to emotional stuff my father is absolutely useless. I mean that in the nicest way.

Give him a practical assignment, and he will master it in a heartbeat. He is a rational person with a very practical and abstract mind. He knows how to fix a house, repair a bicycle and how to drive from A to B in the shortest possible time. My dad is brilliant when it comes to things like that.

But when it comes to stuff of the heart, my dad is not the best person.

So yes. I am worried. I am worried about how my mom and dad are digesting the news with regards to my mom’s health. My dad usually withdraws when stuff really bothers him and when he is worried, while my mom is more the emotional human being like I am. My mom needs him to be present and involved, while my dad needs my mom to be strong and escape her emotional world once in a while.

In the meantime, I am trying to find a balance in my own world, which has been turned up side down just a few days ago. While I feel strong this very moment, I know how my mind can fill itself with despair and sadness a split-second later. What if the lump is bigger? What if the operation doesn’t go as planned? What if it has spread after all? What if the cancer is very aggressive? What if it comes back? What if what if what if?

In that respect, I am very much like my dad. We both want immediate answers and hate uncertainty and open questions with an absolute passion.

The Day Mom Told Me …

I will never forget December 22, 2011 – the day breast cancer turned my world up side down and spat me out in the process.

“Can we meet on Skype?,” my dad BBMed me this morning at 7.15. I was not really in the mood for a chat to tell you the truth. I am not a morning person. “Sure, but give me twenty minutes okay? I just woke up and need to freshen up,” I replied while starting up my laptop. They are currently in Europe and I am on holiday in Australia (I live in South Africa), hence the Skype request.

From the moment my computer connected to my parents’ living room, I knew there was something seriously wrong. Normally, I chat to my folks one by one but this time mom and dad were both behind their computer – my dad standing behind my mom. Then I saw her face. Indeed, something was seriously seriously wrong.

“I have got some very difficult news,” mom said, not trying to cry. “Grandma?” I asked. My mom’s mother is after all in her late eighties, and had a nasty fall earlier this year. She also survived cancer and a stroke. “No, no grandma,” she replied while shaking her head.

Mom started to tell me how a routine check on December 16 had shown a small mass in one of her breasts – a small one, not even one centimeter in diameter. She told me how she then had a biopsy, which indicated the big C-word. ‘It has not spread,” she added. “I am in stage 1, which is very very positive.”

I can’t explain you how it felt. There is not enough ink, or pixels, to explain you what went through me when the news sank in. My mother has breast cancer. It still sounds surreal. When thinking of it, the tears come just like that. My eyes are so sore of all the crying I want to scratch them out.

“We are so sorry we have to do this just before Christmas,” she added. “But we knew you’d be very upset if we would tell you later.”

While my mom explained me about the size of the lump, and about the operation she will have in January, I could not help but to look at dad’s face. Standing behind my mom, it was obvious how much the past few days had tormented him. My heart broke all over again.

I have lost count of the moments I have broken down in tears today and frankly, I don’t care.

My episodes pure and utter sadness and despair are alternated with moments of quietness and then episodes of anger and frustration: What the fuck? My mom is only 55 years young, and is healthy and happy. She has not hurt a fly ever, and has always been there for other people. Why her? WHY?

That is why I decided to start this blog. To find others who are in the same boat, to vent my frustrations, to share my experiences and to get and share tips on how to deal with this crap. It will be anonymous for now, as my mom has not told everyone yet.