this is my mom

This is my Mom. She gave birth to me 28 years, two months and twenty-seven days ago. She was my mommy, and a dang good one, until the devil called alcoholism robbed that from us. When I was around 8, she and my dad divorced. Her, my brother (who was 6 months old at the time) and I moved in with her parents. My grandparents eventually became our sole caregivers. She was in and out of course, but mostly out. She wasn’t there when I made junior high cheerleader. She wasn’t there when I learned to drive or got my first car. She wasn’t around to hound my first boyfriend. She never took me shopping for a prom dress, or taught me how to fix my hair. She didn’t walk across the football field with me on Senior Night or help me get dressed for either prom I attended. She wasn’t there snapping pictures when I made prom queen, didn’t stand on the sidelines as I was escorted across the football field on homecoming night, and never once cheered me on as I served the volleyball over the net.  She was not my biggest fan as I ran for FFA officer.  She never attended an National Honor Society banquet, volleyball game, or, you’ve got it- a graduation.  She wasn't with me when I picked what college I would attend.  She never showed up for my wedding, or came to a baby shower.  I never got to sit in church with my mom or hear her pray.  She didn’t contact me once while I was pregnant with Cason. That hurt- probably more than anything...

There are a lot of things she didn’t do. I am eternally thankful that I did have someone there to do the things that she didn’t- two someone’s actually; my grandparents. But, it wasn’t the same. I wanted my mom. I had a friend who’s Mom got on her nerves SO badly because she was constantly at the school. She never missed a game, ceremony, dance, or recital. She took pictures the first time Heather went on a date, taught her everything about cooking and sewing and fashion… and the normal mother-daughter stuff. But Heather was so unappreciative and sometimes mean to her. I can specifically remember going prom dress shopping with them because Heather picked out EIGHT dresses that she LOVED. After a day (and I mean ALL day) at the Woodlands Mall, she still couldn’t decide. You know what her mom did? She bought all eight dresses and took them home and let her have a whole week to make her decision before taking seven of them back. She was constantly in her business, wanting to go places with her and do things for her. And I was so jealous; I wanted that kind of mom.

I won’t drag you through the heartache and details of the last decade-or-so. She made lot of mistakes. I am not perfect, I maybe I could have reacted better. But, the past is the past. I’ve always said that the one thing my mother did do for me was to show me how not to be a good mom and how to make bad decisions. I have observed and learned so much from her bad decisions.

Alas, here we are:  we’ve connected again. I called her a couple months ago after no contact for almost three years, after hearing she was pretty sick.

You see, this is my Mom. The one who birthed me nearly 30 years ago… who made an attempt at raising me; but failed. The same Mom who loves me and regrets so many of the decisions she made in the last thirty years. So, so many. This is the woman who’s absence tortured me for so many years; the one whom I laid awake night after night crying over and wondering WHY. She has loved, and lost. She is a very complex person with pretty deep issues imbedded into her. There’s a lot that I don’t know about her. But now that I am an adult, I do know this: she really did do the best with what she had. Things didn’t turn out the way she planned (ever been there?). She loves me. I am her daughter. I am blessed with so many of her traits: creativity, writing, and a heart for caring for others. I am also blessed in that I know exactly what I will never do to my kids. I will never make them feel unwanted, or alone, or like they don’t matter. She taught me what that feels like and I will never do anything to make my kids experience those feelings.

This is my Mom. She is dying. She has what is called invasive infiltrated ductile carcinoma. It began in her breast (in the ducts that produce milk) and has metastasized to one of her lungs, spine, pelvic bones and rib cage. Since it began in the breast, the cells are still considered breast cancer cells and will be treated as such, even though they are located in other places too. The cancer in the bone/lung is called secondary bone/lung cancer since those areas weren’t where the cancer actually originated. She took one round of chemo in January but had a bad reaction to it. Her heart stopped beating during the treatment and she flat-lined. The muscle in her heart that pumps blood to her brain is not firing electrical currents correctly, which is causing some memory loss and neurological problems. She has difficulty in opening doors, grasping things firmly, etc. This is also caused from the tumors in her spine pressing on certain nerves. She also has severe scoliosis (crooked spine), which causes nerve problems as well. Recently, she has begun to have terrible headaches and pressure in her right ear. The spinal tumors and scoliosis are causing this by pressing on nerves. The intravenous medicine also made her break out in sores all over her body. They are about the size of half-dollars and look like large burns on her skin. It has almost healed but there is a lot of scarring, almost like really big chicken pox scars. She has lost some of her hair, but once she is further into treatment, she will probably lose it all. Her doctor has a treatment plan that involves taking some chemotherapy orally instead of intravenously. When taken intravenously, there are several drugs mixed together (a cocktail) and he thinks this is what affected her heart. Orally, only one drug is taken at a time in this case. He said they will take baby steps and see how she reacts and responds to each treatment and then determine if other drugs can be added in slowly. She can take the medicine at home, under a very strict regimen (anti nausea medicine, eat 30 mins later, take chemo pill 30 mins after that). She has to take the medicine at the same exact same time every day. She also has to remain in an upright position for an hour after taking it and she cannot touch the pill with her bare skin; gloves have to be worn anytime the pill is handled due to the radiation it contains. If it gets on the skin it causes some sort of cell mutation. She will see her dr. every two weeks unless she has problems. I am no medical expert, and neither is she. I am just repeating what she told me. If she doesn’t respond to the oral medication, the dr. wants to put a port in her chest with a central line and pump. Typically, this type of cancer could be treated with surgery and or radiation but hers is widespread, and the tumors are multiple and small, so neither of these is an option. The dr. did not give her a prognosis as far as a length of time she has left, as each case is different and several factors (tumor size, growth rate, overall health, etc.) have to be taken into account. There is NO cure; this will kill her. We just don’t know how long it will take. Her overall health is horrible; she’s smoked all of her adult life and never taken care of herself. She also has several other underlying conditions to manage, so really the outlook isn’t great. She seems to be handling things ok. Other than the bone pain and headaches, the pain isn’t too bad on her yet. She mostly is extremely fatigued and sometimes confused about things. Genetically speaking, this type of cancer is the most common and most treatable amongst women. It is (usually) very easily detected in someone that is pro-active with their health care. (She is not; she hadn’t been to the doctor in years actually. If this had been caught earlier, before it metastasized, it would be much easier to manage and probably cure. She has also never been a really healthy person – always had some sort of issue, even before alcoholism and drug use came into her life.). It is also extremely rare to find this type of cancer in women who have breastfed their babies, even if the hereditary gene is passed down.

Regardless of everything that my Mom put me through, in the same way that I would never want my kids to know those feelings- I don't want her to know those feelings either.  I don't care that she wasn't there to be strong when I was weak; I will be strong for her when she is weak.  Sure, she wasn't there to hold on when I was ready to let go, but I will be there to hold on to her.  There were times when I felt lost and scared to death because she wasn't there.  I want her to know that when she is lost and scared to death, I am right here.  So many times I needed my mom because I felt like I couldn't take another step... when she feels this way, I'll be there to take the next step for her.  I will take her had; for togther we can do this.  I am going to love her through it whether she deserves it or not; she is my Mom. And, when this road gets too long- I'll be the rock she leans on.