Dear Cancer, I Thought We Paid Our Dues

This is not how it was supposed to be. I am most certainly not made for this. God, why are you forcing me to travel this road again?

When my father died after a long, grueling battle with Stage 4 base of the tongue cancer, I very naively thought, bye cancer. Our family paid our dues, and cancer was never to be seen again. I put on a brave face and began to write about my dad’s cancer journey. I believed the more I poured my heart onto a piece of paper the more cancer would stay away for good. Well, I was wrong.

I walked around for the past eight years wondering why my father had to suffer like he did, but I was finally opening my heart to the idea that he really is in a better place. Don’t get me wrong, I know Heaven is for real, but I am selfish, and I want my loved ones with me. I am finally able to understand that my dad is living pain-free, no more suffering, no more feeding tube. I will always miss him, and I will always need him, but I finally can accept that God’s plans are greater than any other plans in this life.

For the past eight years, I have been trucking along, minding my own business, and then like a car crash, cancer is back in our lives rearing its ugly head. What I once thought was impossible, is my new horrific reality. My beautiful, nonsmoking mother is now living with Stage 4 lung cancer.

One minute she was fine, the next she was coughing nonstop. When the coughing started, we all yelled at her to take cough medicine, go to the doctor. When my mother confided in me that maybe she had lung cancer back in November, I snapped at her and said you don’t smoke that is impossible! I even told her to stop being so dramatic. To be totally honest, cancer terrifies me. I have walked this ugly road before, and I don’t want to do it again, so burying my head in the sand was so much easier.

And then on Christmas Eve, the yule log stopped burning in an instant. I watched her cough up blood, and my entire world stopped. I knew, and I felt sick. My knees began to buckle and I knew our entire world was about to turn upside down. I really wanted to be wrong, but I knew. And then after all the tests, my worst fears were confirmed.
My mother, my last surviving parent, who I am incredibly close to now has stage 4 lung cancer. Even as I am writing, this I cannot believe it is happening.

When the doctor informed me I cried, screamed, and even said some choice words to him. I sobbed ugly tears and told the doctor I am not strong enough for this journey again.

Cancer is the uninvited guest who likes to remind us of what is important. Cancer is life-changing, no matter how many times it likes to rear its ugly head. Cancer has a way of showing you who deserves a front-row seat in your life, who should be sitting in the waiting room, and who should just remain in the parking lot.

When someone has cancer, the entire family and everyone who loves them does too. Since my mom’s diagnosis, I feel like a piece of my heart has been taken out and stomped on. I feel angry, dazed, sick, and confused daily. But mostly, I am angry at the entire world.

With each passing day, I can see and hear my mother changing. Her sharp voice is sometimes shaky. Sometimes we must hang up because she is coughing so much she cannot speak. Sometimes the pain takes her breath away. None of this is fair. This is not how I envisioned my mother growing old. Isn’t it enough that my father suffered? Didn’t that count for anything? Doesn’t my mother get a bonus for taking care of my father? She was his caregiver for 13 years. He was her entire world and she was his. Does any of that count for anything? My anger is consuming.

I find myself talking to God more, begging him for patience and grace. Please show me what you need me to do because I haven’t a clue. When I really silence the noise, I am able to see that good things do happen even during the darkest times in our lives. Friends are willing and want to be there for us. Family too. People check in just because.

I am learning that it is vital to hold onto our faith during these difficult moments and try to cultivate peace. When I feel the anger rearing her ugly head, I ask God to give me the strength I need. Please do not let my anger turn me into an angry, bitter woman. Please let this anger fade and show me what I need to do so I can evolve into a kinder, more empathetic individual.

Cancer is a lot of things, but cancer cannot cripple love, shatter hope, or conquer the spirit. I know this because I have walked this road before, and I will not allow cancer to steal my spirit and ransack my strength. So, friends, I ask you to call your mother. Tell her you love her. And to remember you are the only person who knows what her heart sounds like from the inside.