A Mother’s Love, Her Sacrifice and the Intimate Journey Through Cancer
This Blog is a tribute to my mother for Mother’s Day; after all, I wanted to become an executive assistant because you had inspired me. Watching your strength and perseverance as a little girl made me think, wow, if I can become half the woman you are…life sure will be sweet!
It was during Christmas time we received the worst possible news during the holiday season, which is meant to be joyous and hopeful. My mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. She received a call from the hospital and was told over the phone that her mammogram result had come in, the results were transferred to the hospital for follow-up, and she needed to come in to meet the specialist.
So, when she told me, I was shocked because she had never shared with me that her doctor had sent her to do a biopsy. She kept it from me because she thought nothing was wrong and didn’t want to worry me. So, let’s meet the doctor and see what they say.
I remember that it was the most challenging news I’d heard then, and the way it was given was completely unexpected. I was in complete shock. We showed up at the breast cancer clinic inside the hospital and had to complete what seemed like endless paperwork. I asked why we were filling out these papers, as we were only here to meet the doctor for a follow-up to the biopsy. Why are you asking for all this information about my mother? It’s unnecessary. She does not have breast cancer.
The look on the nurse’s face was odd, she was professional, but you knew she had more to tell us but could not. I asked my mom if she knew what was going on. I told her, “They are giving us strange looks; did you talk to a doctor? Do you have breast cancer, and you hide it from me?” My mom replied, “No, I don’t. They just told me to come here.” So, after completing all the paperwork, we were led to a different room where my mom needed to change into a gown and wait as the doctor would be coming in soon for the checkup.
The doctor walked in after a short period. She introduced herself and began to discuss options regarding cancer surgery. Let me tell you what the scene was like from my end. I felt darkness had surrounded the room. I was choked up and trying to hold back tears and from screaming! I looked at my mom to see a reaction from her; all I saw was nothing.
The room was dead silent. My inside voice told me, “You need to say something and ask questions. You need to shut that doctor down because she does not have cancer, and we need to see a better doctor.” Well, I mustered up some courage and said to the doctor, “There seems to be some confusion here. We were told to come in for a follow-up on her test results, that’s all. Why are we talking about cancer and surgery options? I don’t understand. Please explain because we are in shock, and I believe there is a huge misunderstanding here”.
The doctor started to say, “Oh, I am so sorry. Did no one tell you the results were shared with your family doctor? Your mother has breast cancer in both breasts. We don’t know what stage or how invasive it is; therefore, we need to schedule surgery immediately after the new year. We can’t wait; it is better to save her with surgery sooner and take it out before it spreads to her lymph nodes. We do not recommend waiting at your mom’s age, so you’ll have to decide today.” The doctor continued, “I am sorry that this is shocking news to you both, but please take a moment to decide on my options and the associated risks. I will give you a few moments to discuss, and I will be right back.” Just like that, she let it out in one mouthful and left us to make a decision we had not been prepared to make.
Well, let me say shocked was an understatement to describe what we both felt. My mother started to cry and break down and told the doctor why me? Can’t it be? I never felt anything; are you sure about that? How did you know I have breast cancer? I ended up crying too, and then I realized this was serious, and I needed to snap out of it and start asking lots of grown-up, mature questions to this doctor because of none of this made sense.
The doctor said, “I’m not sure why you don’t understand this news. Your mother did a mammogram, and the results were suspicious, so she was sent to do a biopsy and her biopsy came back positive for cancer cells in both breasts. We cannot determine what stage/grade it is, if it’s invasive, or if it’s spread out until we operate! Please let us do our job and save your mother, but she has to consent to the surgery today so that we can schedule this right after the new year holiday. There is no other way; if your mother refuses the surgery, she will die.
It’s not like we had a lot of choices here. My mother signed the consent form, and the nurse explained our next steps. She gave us our “cancer package” filled with information on risks, treatment, before and after surgery info, counseling resources, nutrition, and life after cancer, etc., you name it.
We walked out with a scheduled date to do the surgery after the new year holiday was over. In the meantime, we were told to read and search treatment options and how to maintain and keep up with life after the surgery, including during the treatment period.
As I walked out of that hospital that day with my mom, I realized that she was in for the battle of her life. I need to be strong; I can’t be the child who needs comfort. I must be the one to give reassurance to her. I can’t show her how scared or heartbroken I am for her. Selfishly, this is not what I wanted to hear, that my mother is ill, and she may or may not beat this cancer. There are no guarantees even after she goes through all of this. All I could think of was, “Not again, not again!” The news was a rewind to when my dad was diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer and was told he had one month to live. I was eight years old when my dad passed away.
It was during a time before we moved to Canada, living in a third-world country with little advanced medicine. We watched as my dad suffered pain and slowly withered away each day. I knew he was very sick, but I did not understand what cancer was or how you got it. Until today, I had associated cancer with a death sentence only. All I knew of cancer was that you would die shortly once diagnosed. Many family members have died from cancer since my dad’s passing. The impact of growing up in a barely developing country left me thinking all cancer does find you and kill you quickly.
And my two older brothers, who were 14 and 15 years old at the time, endured this pain without the support services available today in developed countries. In addition to the pain of my dad’s passing, our family never healed well from our loss. Life was never the same for us. I watched my mother struggle to make ends meet, paying for school, clothes, and food and trying to keep up with life’s expenses. We lived in a country that struggled internally with civil war, and Christians were being discriminated against, and to survive, you had to convert to Islam to live in freedom, not in fear.
My mother was heartbroken and financially broke. She feared for her children, especially my brothers, that they would be taken to join the military to be a part of the ethnic cleansing (the killing of Christians). It was not everyday living trying to keep us close together after my dad’s passing; none of us got closure with his death. We wanted to make our peace with him, and we wanted to know that he loved us. My dad was a very tough man. He was taught that the way to teach children best is to beat obedience out of them. He did not know any better as he was the product of his upbringing, which translated to how he raised the three of us. We hated how he treated my mom and us. Whenever he got angry, or we disobeyed him, we got the beating of our life. If we failed a school test or my brothers and I argued, we got a beating. Everything was dealt with through beating and berating words, including my mother if she came to our aid.
So much emotional baggage had been carried through from childhood to adulthood. I am happy to say that I’ve found closure. I forgave my dad for everything and every pain he had inflicted on me. I’ve moved on, and the cycle of that pain has stopped.
Back then, my mother was a woman who struggled daily. Despite the hardship, she had faced in her childhood, given her place in the culture as a woman, abusive marriage, the rough country we lived in, and the financial struggle as a widow. She was cooking for people and cleaning homes to bring in extra money so she could feed us and pay for rent and school. She taught us resilience, to give thanks in everything, whether in abundance or lack thereof. To pray, to go to church, to serve and fear God, and to always do the right thing even when we don’t want to. To be generous and kind to others and to keep the peace.
She taught me how to be a good woman, a great mother, and a supportive wife no matter what life gave me. She was by my dad’s side no matter what he did, right until he took his last breath. This woman managed to bring us out of our poor living conditions to a place of freedom and safety with better education opportunities and a living environment because of her courage, strength, and faith in God. She endured all; she showed up, fought, labored, cried, and knew hunger, fear, loneliness, loss, and pain. She fell, rose, and did it all through pain before she saw the light and hope. Every time she relied on God, she moved forward blindly into whatever path she presented.
It was time for me to be the grown-up and let my mother be the child, to let her cry and give her comfort. I have to tell her by showing her that I am there for her no matter what. We will go through this cancer journey together hand in hand, knowing it will be a challenging journey. I had to believe she would make it through the surgery, recovery, and treatment. I wish I could talk more about every stage and experience we had together through her journey, but this Blog will turn into a book rather than a blog.
Fast forward, the good news is she had undergone two surgeries and radiation treatment, and now she is on her medication treatment for life. I am thankful to God for watching over her and helping her through this rough road. I am grateful to be given a chance to celebrate another Mother’s Day together.
The truth is, I am the woman I am today because of her love that never fails, her compassion, and her giving heart. I am the woman I am today, a healthy and happy mother to an extraordinary son because of her and the sacrifices she made to raise me. I am who I am, a woman who fears God, with a heart filled with love and thoughtfulness because of her. I am who I am because she taught me the meaning of commitment, sacrificing, giving, and praying. Being a woman of faith to me, what I believe to be important in life, and raising a well-rounded child with confidence, is what matters most and what would become my legacy full of pride and joy.
So, this is my tribute to you, my loving mother. I thank God for you every day. I love you deeply. Make no mistake that your pain, loneliness, and sacrifices have not gone unnoticed but are greatly appreciated and cherished. You resemble the unconditional love of a mother for her family and children. I love you forever and always. I don’t know what my life would be without you in it. I feel safe and at peace knowing that you are always there, whether it’s a phone call, a short ride somewhere we share, or just time spent talking at home and visiting each other. May God bless and heal you, and you stay healthy and happy throughout your life.
Happy Mother’s Day to you, mom!
