October is seen as a time for costumes, candy and general spookiness. But many people seem to forget about another important part to October: Breast Cancer Awareness Month. It’s easy to tuck away the heavy stuff and focus on the fun aspect of this month. But I know from personal experience how important Breast Cancer Awareness is.
I was sixteen when my mom was diagnosed. I knew she was having surgery, but I didn’t know what it really was for. She said it was for something that would cause discomfort down the line. I didn’t realize it was a tumor the size of a pinky finger. The words “tumor” or “cancer” were never said, so I went along without worrying.
The day of the surgery my mom texted me updates for as long as she could. I was able to see her afterwards when she came home. She was tired but good. Everything went exactly as it was supposed to.
It wasn’t until a few weeks later that the truth was revealed. It actually was on the day of my sixteenth birthday that I found out my mom went in for breast cancer. We were driving to grab dinner and the surgery came up. I said to her jokingly, “Well at least the surgery wasn’t for cancer or anything.” That was when she turned and told me it actually was.
She’d gotten a mammogram when the doctors had noticed the anomaly. It was pure bad luck,  they said, not genetics. So they had it removed and my mom would have to go to radiation treatment for a few months.
It felt like the floor had been dropped out from under me. My mom was my best friend. The idea of anything harming her in any way was heartbreaking. You hear other people talking about someone they are close to being diagnosed with cancer, and you think it’s sad but it could never happen to you. When it does happen to you…it’s a hard thing to digest. Especially when it’s someone so important to you.
We got lucky, though. She didn’t need chemo, and it was a small tumor. Every time I think about it I remember how much worse things could have been and how fortunate I am. I will say that radiation was hard. It left my mom exhausted, and it thinned her hair. That broke my heart and I nearly cried when she told me about it. Hair loss made the whole thing seem so real. My mom has always had beautiful red hair, and the idea of her losing it caused me pain.
She was still there for me though. Despite the exhaustion and everything else, my mom was still my rock during a time when I should’ve been hers. She came to my school events and supported me. She told me not to cry over the cancer because she was going to be strong and fight this. It filled me with pride when she said this. I never saw her cry once. All I saw was a woman who had a life, and no cancer was going to put that on hold.
Now my mom has been three years cancer free and still going strong. We went to a breast cancer walk after she was deemed cancer free. It gave me strength to see so many survivors and their support systems as well. It was also a comfort to know we weren’t the only ones who had faced this challenge. I highly recommend going to a walk for breast cancer. Not only is it fun, but it’s inspiring too. You see men and women coming together to pound the pavement in order to bring research and support to a disease that affects so many people in the world. There’s something beautiful and inspiring to look out and see people, young and old, swimming in a sea of pink.
Today my mom and I are closer than ever. I would give up anything and everything to keep her healthy and happy. She’s one of my role models, and I know that no matter what, I love her and she loves me with everything we have. I hope when I grow up I’m as strong as she is.
Â