Cancer has impacted my life in too many ways. The first time was when my mother had stage 3 breast cancer at the age of 70. Her surgery was the day after 9/11.
At that time, I could not worry about the world because my mother was my entire world. We were told her surgery might not happen if our hospital received 9/11 survivors.
The surgery was performed as planned. My mother looked more like 50 than 70, and her oncologist was going to put her on the most aggressive chemo.
I had read that older patients should not get that. I mentioned that to him, and he said he forgot my mother’s age because of her youthful appearance. He gave her a different chemo regimen.
She was so afraid of chemo. After three oral treatments, she wanted to quit. We spoke to her oncologist, and he changed her from pills to infusions. She did much better with that. She underwent chemo and radiation and lived another 17 years.
Two months after my mother’s death, my brother’s wife was diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer. I don’t think they expected her to pull through, but she did and is doing well five years later.
I was very worried for my brother because he had just lost his mother, and I couldn’t bear for him to lose his wife.
Last year, my best friend was diagnosed with stage 1 breast cancer. She just found out that it has spread to her liver. We are both very anxious about this.
She has more tests to see if it has spread anywhere else in her body.
I so hope it hasn’t. We have been friends for fifty years. I love her so much and don’t want anything to happen to her.
This year, a 76-year-old friend of mine was diagnosed with cancer for the third time. She had breast cancer in the 1980s, colon cancer about ten years ago, and now breast cancer again. I feel for her. She has had to deal with chemo far too many times. So far, she is tolerating chemo well.