The day my mom found out about her cancer it was just another normal day for me. Raigen and I had gotten up around 11-ish in the morning. I'd just finished brewing a pot of coffee. My phone rang and my caller-ID showed it was my mom. I picked it up because I had been on stand-by anyway to find out what the test results were. It wasn't my mom's voice. It was Kathy Biggs, a wonderful teacher I had subbed for at the school. She told me everything was ok and that my mom was fine, she just wanted me to come over, that she needed me. I knew the moment Kathy told me it was her and she confirmed it when she said my mom wanted me to come over, the it was, in fact, cancer. I stayed calm. I got Raigen into some clothes, warmed up the car and went over there. Kathy wasn't there, but my mom and dad were on the front porch. They hadn't even unlocked the door to go in. My mom was sitting on the bench, bent over with her arms on her knees, and her face in her hands. We walked up and all I said was, "I take it the results were positive?" - more of a statement than a question, but what else do I say? My Aunt Beth showed up and we all talked for a while.
I had been trying to lose weight. I had weighed about 120 pounds since my 6th grade year up until before I was pregnant the first time. After I'd found out I'd lost the first baby, I weighed about 150 pounds. Then after I had Raigen, my postpartum depression was so bad, they thought I was bi-polar and the meds they put me on made me gain 50 pounds in about 3 months. I ended up weighing 200 pounds by the time the doctor's realized I wasn't bi-polar, that I was just EXTREMELY depressed. The sleep meds they had me on for my bi-polar depression were causing me to "sleep-eat" which is when you sleepwalk to the kitchen, make food (even whole meals), eat and then go back to bed without ever remembering it - therefore I gained all that weight. When I finally weened myself off the new depression meds, I worked out for a while and that wasn't working. I looked up the Biggest Loser stuff and started following their diets and tricks, so I had lost a little weight, but out of nowhere my mom says, "did you lose more weight?" It surprised me considering what she had just found out.
The doctor appointments started. I didn't cry, I didn't even get upset. I called everyone that needed to be called. I scheduled everything that needed to be scheduled. One night, when I was still staying at home, I talked to Scott about a few things that were bothering me. My dad was the one who had all the health problems; high cholesterol, eye problems, degenerative genes,...you name it, he had it. My mom was as healthy as a horse, other than her smoking and a mild case of cervical cancer she'd beat with a simple cone-biopsy ten years before all this. She hadn't been back to the doctor since. Why did it happen to my mom? It wasn't that I wanted it to happen to my dad. He was just who I expected something to happen to. If, for some reason, my mom didn't make it, my dad wouldn't make it much longer after that - all this stuff just blurted out of my mouth to my husband. He reassured me everything would be okay and I was fine.
We went to the first doctor appointment with her surgeon, Doctor King, to discuss the verdict of treatment. Her cancer was more invasive than we'd thought and she'd have to have chemo. On the way home from this treatment, I lost it. My daughter was asleep, my dad was driving, and my mom was trying to rest on the way home, so they had no idea. I cried and cried and cried. I even tried to scream, but nothing came out. I knew I had to be calm before we got home because if my parents realized how red my face was they would start asking questions and neither of them needed that right then. I got myself together and it was cool. I hadn't slept at all the night before, so I was really tired. The night before was when I started my blog.
When we met with her oncologist and found out she would definitely be losing her hair from the chemo, I asked Doctor Mayer if she agreed with the statistic that people who lose their hair during chemo tend to accept the concept easier if someone shaves their head in support of the person doing the chemotherapy. She said no because she feels it tends to rub it in the patients face how it's not only affecting them, but it makes them feel like they're affecting someone else's life in a bad way. My mom and I had already talked about it and she said that she definitely did NOT want me shaving my head, even though I had done it the day of my graduation from high school. That was my way of showing the world I was starting a new chapter in my life. I've always been weird like that. If I broke up with some douche-bag of a boyfriend, I either cut my hair, dyed my hair, or got a new piercing or tattoo. Rarely, I went on a shopping spree. I hate shopping, though, so I didn't do that so often.
We went to a place called Mongolia's in Mooresville to get her a wig. Most of the people that work there used to work at O'Dells, a hair salon that was over by Value Market (what used to be called Jackson's), so my mom knew a few of the ladies that worked there. You would think that shop would be wonderful. Ummm...NO. They acted like my mom was a nobody and then told her "not everyone looks good bald," - not something my mom needed to hear at that point. The lady said she would order some stuff for my mom and made another appointment for my mom to come in and look at it before she made a final decision as to what she wanted. We showed up a week later at the appointment and the lady hadn't ordered a thing. She didn't even remember she was supposed to. Then she told us she had, but she brought out the same wigs we'd already tried. It was soooo frustrating. My mom chose one and paid for it. It was cute, but not what she wanted. We asked for a catalog and they didn't have any.
by Zora K. Brown and Harold P. Freeman, MD with Elizabeth Platt. The night we got home from the first visit to Doctor Mayer's office, I read that book from cover to cover. It's a very easy read and it explains every single thing imaginable about breast cancer. It said shaving my head in support of my mom was up to my mom and how it would make her feel. This totally makes sense, common sense actually, but as Status Shuffle on Facebook says, "how is it considered common sense when it's actually rare to find in most people?" LMAO. A few days later, my mom said she doesn't want me shaving my head, but "what about if you did something like what you did for your high school graduation?" Interesting how I'd thought that from the start, isn't it? I told her that if that was what she wanted, it would be no problem at all. We picked out a Halle Barry pixie-cut the same day and two days later my hair was cut.I wish I could say it went as smoothly for my mom. I cut everyone's hair in my family, except my own for obvious reasons. Mom said she wanted me to do her shaving so she wasn't having it done in front of a bunch of strange people. She kept saying she was worried she had a funny shaped head and she would look terrible. I took it slow with her. I tried to make jokes by threatening mulletts and mohawks. I actually did accomplish the mohawk idea at one point. It was a little to the side, kind of like Will I Am's from the Black Eyed Peas. When I had accomplished the sideways mohawk, my mom wanted to see what the lack of hair on her head looked like. She looked at her reflection in the kitchen window. She started to cry - not a hysterical cry or anything - just a few tears. When I finished with the bulk of it and cleaned up her neck and ears, she rubbed her head. We picked out a couple chunks from the different colored strands of the the hair we had just cut off to save for her scrapbook. She asked if she had a funny shaped head. I couldn't believe it. She had the most perfect circle of a head I've ever seen! I asked Raigen what shape mamaw's head was and she said a "circle." She didn't have any bumps, "hot dogs", discoloration, nothing. It was just flat-out perfect.
My dad didn't take it so hot either. He was fine when he saw it at first, but when my mom asked him what was wrong he just started to run out to the garage - his sanctuary. My mom told him to wait and to tell her what was wrong. When he turned around, he had tears in his eyes. That is EXTREMELY rare for my dad. I can only remember him crying two other times in my whole life - at my grandpa's (his dad's) funeral and my wedding reception during the Daddy-Daughter Dance. He told my mom he was just hurting. When my mom asked why, he said he just couldn't understand why she had to go through this. I think the fact she had cancer finally set in when he saw she was losing her hair to the point we had to cut it, but he did agree she had a wonderful head!
Mom was scared Raigen wouldn't want to be around her because she thought she was ugly. I asked Raigen to give mamaw a hug. She did without hesitation and then said rubbed mom's head and said, "mamaw pretty." My mom started crying again at the thought that her only granddaughter thought she was pretty without hair. Then Raigen tried to climb up on the barstool we were using to cut my mom's hair and said, "me hair too!" My mom really started crying then. I even teared up at the thought that my daughter didn't have a clue as to what was really going on and she still wanted to be just like mamaw. Raigen gave her the therapy she needed without even knowing it...
After she had gone a few treatments without hair, I was at work and a patron told me about Wigs We Care. It's a boutique for cancer patients, like Magnolia's, off of Madison Avenue in Greenwood. One afternoon I asked mom if she wanted to go there to kill time in between appointments. She agreed and when we got there, we were amazed. They were wonderful! The ladies greeted us immediately and helped us so much my mom was mad she'd ever gone to Magnolia's to start with. They had the wigs she wanted, the scarves, everything. They taught us little tricks with T-shirts on how to make them into caps, how to tie an "Izzy scarf," even told us they could order stuff we wanted if we didn't see it on the shelf. Many of the ladies that work there have survived cancer themselves. One lady makes jewelry and sells it in the shop. I found these necklaces she'd made that were beautiful. I bought one for my mom and I, and ordered one for my sister. They had breast cancer guardian angels on them, but mine and my sister's had just the plain guardian angel on it. My mom's had the survivor's guardian angel on it, to carry her through to survival and prevent a relapse. Mine and my mom's necklaces both broke at one point so we took them back to her and she had them fixed free of charge and no questions asked! She actually apologized a hundred times too. They were $12 each and all the money she makes from the jewelry goes to breast cancer research! Wigs We Care is FANTASTIC!
Breast Cancer Guardian Angel Charm
Breast Cancer Survival Angel Charm
I wasn't able to get anxious about losing weight because I was dealing with family issues. It's not like I'm glad my mom got cancer. If I could've chosen to be the one to get cancer, I would've, but that obviously wasn't an option. It worked out in everyone's favor though. I know this is gross for some people, but when you gain a crap-ton of weight, most people's mojo isn't exactly where their husbands want it to be. Well, after losing that weight, my mojo improved, I was able to dress how I wanted to, and I was in a good mood more often than I was when I was heavier. Now, I'm at the stage where I want to work out again. I can walk up a flight of stairs without being out of breath or hurting to the point I would rather take the elevator or ride one of those Segway thingies.
I just need the motivation. I workout with a partner waayyyyy better than when I work out by myself. The problem is, I always get my motivation to work out at night, when you're not supposed to. Working out causes a boost in adrenaline and keeps you energized throughout the day. When I work out in the morning or afternoon, I always want to take a nap, but can't because of having a two-year-old that doesn't take naps. If I work out when I'm motivated at one in the morning, my adrenaline keeps me up for another four hours. It's so frustrating. Plus, I don't have a partner to work out with. My schedule is so fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants that I can't have a set time to work out and that brings my partner options to zero. I guess working out by myself and not pushing myself to my fullest extent is better than not working out at all.
While all this with my mom was happening, I started noticing that the doctors didn't talk directly to my mom or dad. They would always look at me. My mom said it was because they could tell I was calm enough to take it all in and make sense of it. She said I was like her and dad's translator. The doctors would say what they needed to say, then later, I would explain everything in lay-man's terms to them. Lol. Whatever works, I guess.
Toward the end of my mom's chemo, Hermione and Doctor Mayer noticed I'd lost weight. They both gave me this speech about how short the span of my mom's chemo treatments are and that it looks to them like I've lost way too much weight in that short period of time to be doing it the healthy way. My mom and I explained that I had made a VERY drastic change in my diet, as well as being up moving around a lot more. They said that was fine, but to be careful. I appreciated Hum and Mary Lou's concern, but they also didn't see what kind of a life I lead before my mom got cancer.
Now, we are all doing just fine. My mom was prescribed Chantix and is trying to quit smoking. My mom's hair is growing back so darn fast and her spacers make her boobs so perky that I'm jealous! I'm at least maintaining my shape now and not gaining the weight back, and Little Red....thinks she's sixteen instead of 2 1/2...rotflol...
September 2009
January 2010
