Becky's Story

August 2005 - I, being a 40 year old single mother of a 3 year old son and three grown children, sat back on the balcony of the new apartment we'd just finished moving into - a grueling move - but this new "home" had kids galore - plenty of potential friends for my somewhat only child. I felt great, had successfully "saved" myself and my son from a horrible domestic violence situation, in which we'd spent 3 years in protective housing - and were finally out on our own. I had a great job, a great daycare for my son, and now this great apartment for us. Felt like home. I felt exhausted. And the exhaustion continued. Most people said it was all in my head. But lo and behold - a visit to the doctor for a cough - produced something very very scary. I had breast cancer - Stage IV ductal carcinoma at diagnosis. Surely a death sentence - I thought that - and everybody else denied thinking that - but I could see it in their expressions. I was terrified that if my little boy's father found out - he would try to take my son on the basis that I was sick - and my boy would be at risk of abuse. I believe it was that one fear that held me up through everything - he must never know. My elderly mother came right away from out of state, and bless her heart, she wore herself thin through it all, despite her needing care herself. I opted to keep working, for the appearance of normalacy, and while I was at work, she would clean the house from top to bottom, and then deny she did a thing. She cooked our dinners, and played with her grandson when I was too sick to get up off the couch. She held me when I bawled - the shock of the first big handful of my beautiful waist length hair in my hand instead of attached to my head. As my hair fell out, I would hide it in the garbage can under mounds of toilet paper so my little son wouldn't see it - then my mother would take it out after we left for work. Creative scarves, hats, and wig - and my little boy never noticed that I was totally bald. Following a horrendous round of aggressive chemo, I had a little break to regain my strength, and then it was time for a radical masectomy. I groveled with my oncologist - I'd just be going home right afterwards thank you - outpatient would be just fine. I so didn't want to be away from my son. However, my doctor thought otherwise, and we arranged for my absence for the night. I woke from my surgery, and watched the clock tick tock tick tock, until finally I could go home to my boy. Four days later, drainage tubes carefully concealed under a huge flannel button up shirt - my son, mother, and I sat at the movie theater watching the latest kiddie must see - Chicken Little. One week recovery from surgery, and it was back to work, back to normal, as normal could be. I healed and felt pretty good, so mom went on home. I began radiation shortly after - thinking I was superhero woman or something, that I was alright on my own. Well, after a couple of weeks of daily radiation, I was on the phone with my mother, crying, I was completely drained, and needed help. Bless her heart, she jumped right in her car and drove the 700 miles BACK to my house to help once again. We cried alot together, laughed alot together, laughed as my first husband told my grown kids "hey! go grab moms hair and RUN LIKE HECK!", we planned a future when it was uncertain if a future was in the future, we got paperwork in order to prepare for the worst, while fully denying to ourselves and each other that there would be NO "worst". My little son never knew what happened. It's been a while now, but the nightmare remains in my memory. Every time I shower, I see my horendously disfigured body - opted to forgo reconstruction in lieu of getting back to being a "mother" as soon as possible - no more "icky" stuff! - yes, mirrors are no longer my friend! Whenever I do catch a glimpse, I just try to tell myself how wonderful it is to have hair again! And to be alive! I am now on tamoxifen, and other medications to counter the affects of tamoxifen, and it really isn't easy - but somehow - having the gift of life - despite the odds I faced - makes it all worthwhile! Love life! Now I try to convince people who are feeling down - just LOVE LIFE - it may be shorter than you think - and every day should be appreciated for all the beauty it holds!