. . cancer was through my mother. I had known others who had had cancer, some who had died from it, but no one that was in my daily life.
My mother was one of the most energetic people I have ever known. She had 3 adult children, a high schooler, a middle schooler and 2 grandchildren. She worked, baked wedding cakes, ran a food co-op and was a Sundy School teacher. She helped take care of a sickly nephew and an ill Father-in-Law. Clothes were always clean and meals were never late. Anyone who was in sports was where they needed to be, when they needed to be.
When the weather was nice (we lived in the mid-west), she would walk every morning (around 5am) with a friend . . . before her real day started. One morning in May of 1989, while taking her morning walk, she felt like she could not catch her breath.
At this time, my parents were looking for a new house, 130 miles away, due to my father's job transfer. Mom had several episodes of feeling like she couldn't catch her breath, but doctor visits had not shown any answers for this. Once they found a house, even before it was purchased, she found a family doctor there and started going for tests.
I'm not sure when it was actually stated that she had cancer. There was never a primary source found. What was happening was fluid was filling the lining of her lungs and cancer cells were found in that fluid. My parent's moved into their new home Father's Day week-end of 1989.
My brother and sister-in-law came from Ohio for a couple of weeks to help my parents get settled in their new home. Once mom started chemo, I was there every week-end for about 5 months. On Friday I would load up my 2 children, dog, and laundry and drive 130 miles. I would spend the week-end cooking and cleaning and visiting with mom and then drive back home, late Sunday night so my children could be in school the next day. This was a great time of bonding. We had tapes that we sang to and we were able to discuss what was going on with Grandma.
The chemotherapy that mom was taking was so strong and the results were so dramatic from week-end to week-end. I remember going one week-end and it had turned her hair white. The following week-end, her hair was all gone. Because we were able to talk about the changes on the way home, my children were never afraid of her or looked at her any differently . . . except when she tried once to wear a wig.
Even with the strong drugs, the lining of her lungs filled rapidly with fluid and she began to have to have it suctioned off weekly. At one point she had a procedure done to help keep blood clots from traveling to her heart. It did not go well and we almost lost her. After that she never regained much strength and was told because of it, the outlook for her recovery was not good.
When the holidays came, my Grandparents came from Arizona to stay with her. Dad had had some health issues and needed someone who could be there all the time to help out. By this time, Mom was so weak and had lost her appetite and had lost a lot of weight. She tried to be so strong. She would say that God was teaching her patience.
All this time I know people were praying for her. As small children we were taught that God will answer your prayer in one of 3 ways, yes . . . no . . . and wait. I truly believe that my Mom lived so long after diagnosis because of those prayers. Some might say that God was not caring to let her go through all she went through. It's strange how narrow our focus can be. It's also amazing to realize the things you take in from the events that form your life.
Spring came early in 1990 and I remember being in my parents front yard when the realization that it was time for Mom's life in this world to be over. I actually prayed that her suffering would end and she would go quickly. I also confessed that I knew it was our (my) selfishness that had kept her here so long. I went home that Sunday night only to be called back 2 days later.
Mom passed away 5 days before her 49th birthday in March of 1990.
My mother was one of the most energetic people I have ever known. She had 3 adult children, a high schooler, a middle schooler and 2 grandchildren. She worked, baked wedding cakes, ran a food co-op and was a Sundy School teacher. She helped take care of a sickly nephew and an ill Father-in-Law. Clothes were always clean and meals were never late. Anyone who was in sports was where they needed to be, when they needed to be.
When the weather was nice (we lived in the mid-west), she would walk every morning (around 5am) with a friend . . . before her real day started. One morning in May of 1989, while taking her morning walk, she felt like she could not catch her breath.
At this time, my parents were looking for a new house, 130 miles away, due to my father's job transfer. Mom had several episodes of feeling like she couldn't catch her breath, but doctor visits had not shown any answers for this. Once they found a house, even before it was purchased, she found a family doctor there and started going for tests.
I'm not sure when it was actually stated that she had cancer. There was never a primary source found. What was happening was fluid was filling the lining of her lungs and cancer cells were found in that fluid. My parent's moved into their new home Father's Day week-end of 1989.
My brother and sister-in-law came from Ohio for a couple of weeks to help my parents get settled in their new home. Once mom started chemo, I was there every week-end for about 5 months. On Friday I would load up my 2 children, dog, and laundry and drive 130 miles. I would spend the week-end cooking and cleaning and visiting with mom and then drive back home, late Sunday night so my children could be in school the next day. This was a great time of bonding. We had tapes that we sang to and we were able to discuss what was going on with Grandma.
The chemotherapy that mom was taking was so strong and the results were so dramatic from week-end to week-end. I remember going one week-end and it had turned her hair white. The following week-end, her hair was all gone. Because we were able to talk about the changes on the way home, my children were never afraid of her or looked at her any differently . . . except when she tried once to wear a wig.
Even with the strong drugs, the lining of her lungs filled rapidly with fluid and she began to have to have it suctioned off weekly. At one point she had a procedure done to help keep blood clots from traveling to her heart. It did not go well and we almost lost her. After that she never regained much strength and was told because of it, the outlook for her recovery was not good.
When the holidays came, my Grandparents came from Arizona to stay with her. Dad had had some health issues and needed someone who could be there all the time to help out. By this time, Mom was so weak and had lost her appetite and had lost a lot of weight. She tried to be so strong. She would say that God was teaching her patience.
All this time I know people were praying for her. As small children we were taught that God will answer your prayer in one of 3 ways, yes . . . no . . . and wait. I truly believe that my Mom lived so long after diagnosis because of those prayers. Some might say that God was not caring to let her go through all she went through. It's strange how narrow our focus can be. It's also amazing to realize the things you take in from the events that form your life.
Spring came early in 1990 and I remember being in my parents front yard when the realization that it was time for Mom's life in this world to be over. I actually prayed that her suffering would end and she would go quickly. I also confessed that I knew it was our (my) selfishness that had kept her here so long. I went home that Sunday night only to be called back 2 days later.
Mom passed away 5 days before her 49th birthday in March of 1990.
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