Sydney Baker
Block 3
Momma HAD Cancer
It was all blur—was I having a dream, or was it all real… I was so lost in my emotions that nothing was setting in.
There I was shuffled in the mix of people who were filled will happiness and comfort, standing in fear. I heard the crowd cheering, the announcer pointed out, “next up to bat, our center-fielder, Sam Baker”, the sound of bats coming in contact with the ball, etc. While smelling everything you could think of at the baseball field… fresh cut grass, red clay dirt, popcorn, hot dogs and everything else that was in my presence. I had never experienced this feeling and all I remember is that I never ever want to feel that way again…. Instantly, I felt my world turn upside down and crumble before my eyes.
In that moment, I almost wanted to run away and hide and pretend this never ever happened. I just wanted to know why it happened to me… why my mom, why my family? This sudden fear sent my body into overdrive, I could not speak, could not eat, could not cry, I felt as if I could not do anything. Absolutely nothing, nothing at all. I had endless thoughts racing through my head and they were taking over my emotions completely. They kept coming and never stopped.… How much time does she have left? What if she does not make it? How are we going to live like this?
Earlier that day while Sam, my older brother, and I was at school, she had gone to get a mammogram at Baptist Health in Little Rock, with Doctor Hagan. We had been told by countless others that he was the best around. Meanwhile, throughout that day all I could think about was this doctor’s appointment and how the results were going to turn out. I wanted to know immediately. Since her appointment was not until mid-afternoon, I went home with a friend and we went to the baseball game where my mother was going to meet us afterwards. I knew she was nervous because of our outstanding four generation family history, and that didn’t help my emotions at all.
I was at the baseball game watching my brother, like any other normal day, and I was just waiting for my mother to get there, too. She had just left the doctor so I called to see where she was, and I instantly noticed that there was either really bad news or really good news by the shakiness of her voice. I did not have the guts nor the strength to ask her over the phone what was actually wrong, I had a very positive feeling that it was not anything I wanted to hear. As soon as she got there she told me the results, they were not good at all, and in that moment my life was completely changed… forever.
When she walked in, all of her friends knew there was something wrong so she began to explain the diagnosis to everybody and they were all very shocked. I remember hearing my mom cry as she continued to talk to her friends, and after hearing it so many times it began to bother me emotionally, so I asked my mom to please stop talking about it. That was the same day that my mother began writing all her blogs titled, “Momma HAS Cancer.” To this day she still writes blogs about her journey and I have read every single one of them, and most of them now are just about life in general. Because my brother and I had to stay strong for my mother’s sake, we never talked about her cancer. They only way it was mentioned were through a blog, where everyone could read it. It was our way of coping with the pain and sorrow of this journey. She began writing her first blog the night she found out, after the baseball game… and before she posted it she called my brother and I into her bedroom she sighed, “I’m about to tell you everything and I don’t want you to worry because I promise…everything will be okay. God will take care of us.”
She then explained the entire diagnosis to us and told us her “course of action” for treating this rare type of cancer. She was diagnosed with triple negative-stage two A breast cancer in April of 2012. She elected to have a double mastectomy even though her lymph nodes were cancer-free. Her oncologist then wanted her to undergo eight rounds of chemotherapy. Four of which were of adriocytoxin, also known as the “red devil”, and the other four were of taxol. As broken as I felt in that moment, not once did I ever cry in front my mother because like every parent, they hate to see their child hurt so I did not want her to feel guilty for this, because in no way was it her fault. The next day after she told us, we were going to meet with the oncologist for her first treatment—we were sitting in the empty, sterile, and cold waiting room when we were called back.
Since chemotherapy kills both the red and white blood cells, you are essentially unable to do anything because you are too sick. White blood cells function to fight off the bacteria that would attack your immune system, so you become very sick while undergoing continuous treatments. In saying that, because my mother had eight long rounds of chemotherapy, that were every other week, she had to go every other week between the treatments to make sure her white cell count was high enough to continue with the next treatment on time. In order for her to be able to receive the next treatment she had to have .6 percent of white blood cells in her so she would not be too sick, and if she didn’t have that she would get a neupogen shot which would boost that so she could get the chemotherapy treatment. Because she had eight treatments every other week and she had to skip twice, she finished chemotherapy in five months and did not have to go through radiation because her lymph nodes were cancer-free. After two major surgeries, three minor surgeries, and eight complete rounds of chemotherapy, my mom was announced CANCER-FREE in September of 2013, on salt bowl day, one of the biggest days of the year for our family.
Ever since the moment I found out that my own mom had cancer, I had not felt happy… for a year and a half I felt scared and nervous about how the next day was going to be, so when I heard those words, “TERRI, YOU ARE NOW CANCER FREE,” I felt completely full of happiness again. It was one of the most unforgettable moments of my life— the nervousness was gone, the joy was back and felt better than ever. I immediately felt like a huge burden was lifted off of my shoulders and I could finally relax and not have to worry. God is good.
I'm so proud of her ability to express her words that she couldn't say at the time. Every once in a while, my mind is forced to "go there".....to say "what if." Especially when tragedy strikes close to ya. Or when its near an "oncology checkup time." Or when you hear of it attacking another person just like me. I've been both the patient....and the daughter. I'd take the "patient" job any. day. of. the. week. It breaks my heart that my CHILD knows words like "Mastectomy" and "Neupogen" and "Adriacytoxin." Please take a moment and pray for the "Cancer Kiddos"..... Because in the words of my sweet Syd...."God is good."
Life is normal again. Well, a new normal. Laughter and memories. God, how I love that child!
In Him,
Terri
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