The biggest hardship that my illness has been on is not me, but my mother.
The past fifteen years have not been kind to her. First her husband (my dad, don’t worry not having issues, just being literary) had kidney failure and she spent two years taking care of him and trying to get a kidney donor. Finally, he gets his kidney transplant and seems to be getting back on his feet, but then her sister’s cancer (breast cancer that metastasized in her brain) was getting worse by the day. Since my mother is the eldest of the siblings, she took it upon her shoulders to make sure that her sister was getting the best care that was possible.
My aunt passed away in 2013…and then in 2014 I fall supremely ill with my tumor and cancer and no longer being able to walk (I still have major walking issues, but got better…though this chemotherapy has kind of retarded my progress).
When there was first suspicion that I might have cancer I remember thinking back about how my aunt dealt with her cancer. She was anger incarnate and went after each and any possible treatment that could cure her. She was optimistic, but man was she angry.
Her downtimes were her worst, post-treatment she was weak and whiny and had to have everything just so.
I thought about her a lot that as I waited for my own diagnosis…