There
have been several instances of cancer in my family, but nothing hit harder than
when it was my mom’s turn to fight. One night during the spring of my senior year of high
school, my mom complained about how uncomfortable her bra felt. I don’t think anyone
really thought much about it and I know that I assumed it was simply too tight. After that night, she was still feeling uneasy
about the whole thing, so she decided to go to the doctor. An irritating bra
from a few days before led
to a 3D mammogram. When that showed something, she
then had to get three biopsies. Shortly after that, a conclusion was made: the uncomfortable bra corresponded to breast cancer, and someone pressed the fast
forward button on our
lives.
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When
I was first told the news, all I felt was shock and confusion. The pain
and sadness didn’t hit me until I accompanied my mom to an appointment with her
surgeon. That day may
have been the worst day of my life.
I
didn’t originally plan on going to the appointment with my mom, but my dad had
to be at the office for a bit longer and I wanted to be there for her. After
she got called back to see the doctor, things got hazy. Her
surgeon was bursting with bad news: the cancer may be spreading, we needed to
act quickly, she was going to have to do a full mastectomy, and there
would never be a 100% guarantee that it wouldn’t come back. It was during this
appointment that reality hit me straight in the face. Something was trying to
kill my mom, and losing her was a real possibility. When I got home I
sobbed for an hour straight, leaving my face, hair and pillow soaked.
After
that day, it never really got easier, but it also never really got worse. June
26, 2014 was my mom’s birthday, but more importantly, her one-year anniversary
of being cancer-free. Every
night before she goes to bed, my mom does her hormone treatment that in effect,
makes her body ache and is now causing some minor hair loss. Despite all of this,
however, she has not backed down to cancer and the
letter “f” necklace she wears every day is a reminder of that. The letter “f”
on her necklace stands for many things: her maiden name (Flannery), her ability to get through
cancer with great faith, family and friends, and the fact that, even with
one breast, she is still as funny and fabulous as before. She will also continue to fight and, should the
cancer ever come out of remission, tell it to f-off!
We live in a world where everyone knows someone who has been affected by
cancer and with that said, I relay for life. I relay for a world with more
birthdays. I relay so that no one has to lose his or her mom to cancer like I
almost did. I know the fight to end cancer is far from over, but I relay
with the hope that we can get that much closer to living in a world free of cancer.
I relay for my best friend, my number one supporter, my mom.
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With RelayLove,
