In the beginning...

It’s hard to start anything but I’m compelled to start this...I keep thinking it will help me process my thoughts. Maybe...

I have to start over twenty years ago when my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. Intraductal breast cancer. I remember it was the fall because she had returned home to Florida with her husband after spending the summer in a condo in Vernon Valley NJ. She said she could tell there was something wrong with her breast. It looked funny; and I think she went to her old gynecologist in Long Island to have it checked before returning to Florida to get the full diagnosis. She didn’t share much about how she initially felt because I’m sure she thought she was protecting me, but when she finally told us and we went down to Florida for her surgery. I can’t speak for her and the drama she personally went through but there are things that stick in my mind. Even 20 years ago it seemed inordinately long between diagnosis and surgery. We don’t do well with pain in our family (well who does?) but I remember her going to somewhere to get relaxation and positive thought tapes. It was the walkman era and my mom, strong as she was listened to those tapes with headphones as she was wheeled into surgery. This was before red lipstick and empowerment for breast cancer. No one was sure you would survive but my mom was determined. I found out years later they told her she might not live out the year. She survived 20 without another incident and only one breast. In the 20 years since her surgery she’s had a multitude of great times, added many grandchildren, lost her caring husband to an odd form of cancer and started her life over twice. She is one of the most singular minded strong woman I know. And now we share something mothers and daughters should never share. We are going through chemo at the same time.