Fighting Cancer

The past year has definitely been a hard one for my family. My family is very close. Even though my sisters and I argue and fuss at each other, we always have the other's back. I love my sisters and I would do anything for them. My parents raised us to be intelligent, strong-willed, independent women. Each of us have a different relationship with our parents. I am very close with both of my parents. We've had our ups and downs over the years, but I know that they have always been there for me whether or not they agreed with my questionable decisions. I was a bit of a wild child in high school. I was constantly pushing the limits and most often was found to be blatantly stepping over the boundaries. I know that I made my parents worry if I was going to graduate, go to college, or end up in jail. I'm proud to say that I was listening even when they thought that I wasn't.

My mother was diagnosed with stage 3 ovarian cancer almost a year ago. I felt like my entire world was just crashing down around me when my dad told me. It doesn't really feel like it has been almost a year. Even though my family has been through the ringer this last year, my mother has been through Hell and still continues to fight on. Over the past year she has had the surgery that led to her diagnosis. She has been through the total hysterectomy surgery. She has tried the first chemo treatment. That one brought her C125 marker down from around 2000 to between 500 and 600 (it should be less than 20 in a healthy adult). Then the marker started to rise. The oncologist then changed her treatment to the one that is still in clinical trials. The doctor and his nurses fought her insurance company to get approval on the drug b/c they had been having such great results with it. Unfortunately, my mother did not have the results that we were all hoping for.

With two treatments that didn't provide the results, it was back to the drawing board. The specialist in Denver reassured my mother that if the treatments were not working in some way, shape, or form she wouldn't be here today. So, that led to chemo treatment number 3. Three is supposed to be the lucky number right? Isn't that the expression? So, why didn't number 3 work? Her C125 marker went back up to around 2000, but treatment number 3 brought it back down to around 500 to 600. And again, it began to rise. Really? What the hell? Why can we not just get it right?

This brings us to now. My mom was hospitalized this weekend for abdominal pain. We've known about the tumor in the abdominal cavity. The last we knew, it had not attached yet. But, now it's pushing on her bowels and causing issues. Because of the chemo, they do not want to do surgery unless it is absolutely necessary.

My mother, throughout all of this, has remained in good spirits. She has had a positive mental outlook and is still puttering around in her gardens, fixing up the house to sell it, and even working. She continues her weekly trips to the oncologist to take her 'witches brew' as she calls it. She shaved her head when her hair started to fall out and has never worn a wig. She has had her moments where she breaks down, or her moments were she just gets tired or cranky. My mother is the strongest woman I have EVER known. She continues to smile even though she is fighting for her life. She continues to smile even though she is so far from her family. She continues to smile when one chemo treatment after the next isn't working to put her cancer into remission. She continues to smile knowing all the risks of the chemo. She continues to smile even though the survival rate for ovarian cancer survivors past 5 years is only 20%.

Twenty percent.

Even typing that brings tears. I am not one to cry. I absolutely hate crying. I just don't. It doesn't accomplish anything. I feel lost. I wish that there was something, anything that I could do to ease her pain or to get rid of her cancer permanently. I suppose families of any cancer fighter feels that way.

I was told recently by two friends that they think I am the strongest woman they know. That made me smile and completely brightened my day. These two people know what is going on with my mom, but they know different things about me. One knows me very well, one is getting to know me. Both are what I would consider close friends. I try to stay put together for my parents, but I feel like I am dying inside. I try to be strong for my sisters, but instead I call Tracy at 11pm at night bawling my eyes out b/c my mom calls and tells me she was admitted to the hospital. I talk to my dad who is trying to remain strong, but knowing that he feels, essentially, the same way I do. Which, then causes more tears and more crying.

But, I know that my friends are being supportive. I have some that listen when I need to talk. Some that are there silently, but ask how she's doing and ask how I am doing. Then I have some that support Relay for Life or the Trojan Trek. One of my best friends is walking in honor of my mother in the Trojan Trek this June. I have friends that go to visit my mother in the hospital, or to the house to check on her and see how she is doing.

I appreciate all prayers and all support for my mom and my family over the last year. I just hope that the doctors can figure out something that will work soon. I still need my mother around. I need both of my parents. It's not just an I want my parents around. It's truly a need to have them around.