No Way Around It, Cancer Sucks
My least favorite C-word: Cancer.
Well, there are a few C-words I dislike, but cancer takes the cake. Like many “cancer” came into my vocabulary fairly early on. First through diagnosis and treatment protocols for grandparents, aunt and uncles, and then my mom.
My mom was diagnosed with stage four triple negative breast cancer at the start of my senior year at Wellesley College. The text she sent to inform me was short and vague, but the C-word was used. It felt like a gut punch. It was jarring, scary, sad, and disappointing. A shattering of sorts, putting into perspective how delicate and precious our health really is in the grand scheme.
I came to learn that her cancer, stage four triple negative, is an aggressive form of cancer that is not very receptive to various treatment options. Everyone is different and every treatment plan is customized, but this form of cancer is particularly challenging to treat and manage. Given the nature of this cancer and my remote learning environment due to Covid-19, I decided to move to San Diego to continue my studies and become her caregiver.
I was in over my head. Thrown into the world of doctors appointments, medical jargon, pill schedules, and treatment calendars, I did my best to be a supportive daughter. Mom was always so determined and positive, almost refusing to let herself cry or be shaken by the aggressive treatment plans. She was motivated to follow directions and make it to the other side of treatment.
Nothing got easier, but we developed plans and strategies to make things more manageable. I became an excellent smoothie chef, chauffeur, assistant, and medical scribe. The role of caregiver was all consuming and deeply tested my ability to manage responsibilities outside of the hospital. Slowly, we made it through just over two years of treatment together. My mom was thankfully announced cancer free and stopped treatment!
I was able to hang up my hat as caregiver and finally see my mom regain her strength.
Well, there are a few C-words I dislike, but cancer takes the cake. Like many “cancer” came into my vocabulary fairly early on. First through diagnosis and treatment protocols for grandparents, aunt and uncles, and then my mom.
My mom was diagnosed with stage four triple negative breast cancer at the start of my senior year at Wellesley College. The text she sent to inform me was short and vague, but the C-word was used. It felt like a gut punch. It was jarring, scary, sad, and disappointing. A shattering of sorts, putting into perspective how delicate and precious our health really is in the grand scheme.
I came to learn that her cancer, stage four triple negative, is an aggressive form of cancer that is not very receptive to various treatment options. Everyone is different and every treatment plan is customized, but this form of cancer is particularly challenging to treat and manage. Given the nature of this cancer and my remote learning environment due to Covid-19, I decided to move to San Diego to continue my studies and become her caregiver.
I was in over my head. Thrown into the world of doctors appointments, medical jargon, pill schedules, and treatment calendars, I did my best to be a supportive daughter. Mom was always so determined and positive, almost refusing to let herself cry or be shaken by the aggressive treatment plans. She was motivated to follow directions and make it to the other side of treatment.
Nothing got easier, but we developed plans and strategies to make things more manageable. I became an excellent smoothie chef, chauffeur, assistant, and medical scribe. The role of caregiver was all consuming and deeply tested my ability to manage responsibilities outside of the hospital. Slowly, we made it through just over two years of treatment together. My mom was thankfully announced cancer free and stopped treatment!
I was able to hang up my hat as caregiver and finally see my mom regain her strength.