My Mum and Cancer

I have recently signed up to do a charity trek in aid of Breakthrough Breast Cancer and thought I would share my cancer experience with you. This won't be easy as when my mum was dying, 16 years ago, from lung cancer she asked us not to remember her like that but remember the happy times. For 16 years I have been blocking out memories but now feel it is time to share.



When my family are ill we make sure we are really ill! Not just a chest infection for my son but life threatening pneumonia. Not just a headache for my sister but 48 hours on a life support machine with meningitis. ( We were told first 24 hours would determine if she lived or not and second 24 hrs would determine how much damage there was. She was lucky and survived unscathed)

It was my mum however who had the biggest battles and unfortunately didn't survive the last. Her first fight was with breast cancer back in 1987. I remember her calling me into her bedroom one morning and asking me to look at her boob. She had a bit of a sense of humour like mine and I was waiting for some kind of joke but there wasn't one. I looked and she seemed to have a dimple where skin was being pulled in. She said she could feel something and would I feel. I couldn't feel anything but that might have been because I really didn't want to be examining my mum's boob.

She phoned the doctor's surgery and was asked if it was urgent so she told them she thought she had a lump. The doctor was very good and saw her very quickly. At the time she was covered by private health care so was sent to St Antony's private hospital. My uncle was, at the time, one of the top eye surgeons in the country and pulled some strings to get her seen by somebody he considered to be very good in that field. Results came back from the biopsy to say it was a malignant tumour and needed to be removed.

She went into hospital soon after that and had the lump removed. I remember her laughing when telling us about at a conversation with the consultant. He had said he was very relieved that he had only had to remove the lump as there wasn't enough silicon in the country to replace a boob her size! Apparently my dad had been in the room and had looked like he was going to hit the man, which would have been very out of character. It made my mum laugh and that was all that mattered.

After the surgery she did need follow up treatment. I don't remember if it was chemo or radio therapy. I know lymph glands were checked and I know she had treatment but my memory is foggy on the details. She used to say that she visualised the cancer cells and visualised little men with pick axes bashing away at it to remove. She had her own team of miners removing her cancer. I don't know if her positive thinking and visualisations helped destroy the cancer but it helped her stay strong mentally.

At the time we were due to be going on a family holiday to Florida. My then boyfriend, now husband, was meeting us there as that's where the navy was taking him. I remember mum being worried about a bikini or a swimsuit as she wasn't sure if she was lop sided. I didn't notice if she was. She was given the all clear just before we went away. That made the holiday even more special but the effects of her treatment did show on the holiday. We went to Wet and Wild and instead of being the first on the water slides mum just watched. She spent most of the time on the lazy river as she didn't have to do anything for that. She was sore under her arm and on side where she had had treatment.

After that life returned pretty much to normal. The consultant put her on some tablets that they believed would prevent it ever coming back. She had to go for regular check ups but the timing between these grew longer as the years went by. She was a 5 year survivor of breast cancer and we were delighted.

We had been lulled into a false sense of security though. In January 1993 Mum and Dad went on holiday to Kenya. Whilst out there she did some snorkeling. She had first tried it on our Florida holiday and really enjoyed. This time, howeve, she found it really difficult. Breathing wasn't easy. She went to the doctor when she got back. It was then that the lump in her lungs was found. By then I was married and living away. I can't remember when or how she told me. I considered moving home for a bit whilst she was treated but I had a job and a husband and a life to live of my own.
During the summer we went to visit and I announced that I was pregnant with my first child. I thought my mum would be ecstatic but she wasn't as enthusiastic as I thought. She told me she had always wanted to be at the birth of my child as she hadn't been there when any of her 3 children were born. I know technically she was there but all 3 of us were born by c section and back then mums were knocked out first. I told mum she could be my birthing partner as my husband wasn't so keen. I had it in my head that would be the case.

Mum was treated at the Royal Marsden in Sutton. The treatment was harsh and she was in and out of hospital. I wasn't there a lot of the time but visited at weekends. Mum started knitting again too. We talked about baby names and baby care whilst she was in hospital. We went to the library together one day and she was struggling with her breathing. People kept staring because of the noise. I could see the upset in her eyes. We had to go shopping for a hat one weekend too for my sister's wedding. The lady in the shop made a comment that mum had a nasty cold. I remember her snapping at the lady that it wasn't a cold, it was cancer. The poor woman looked horrified. I don't think mum meant to be mean but it was really hurting her by then. I remember her saying that cancer is a word not a sentence. We clung to that saying. We had to believe that there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

It was October when things got really really bad. I went to visit for her birthday. She had been in hospital but they let her come home for her birthday. When I got there she was on her nebuliser. She wouldn't let me in the room in case the fumes hurt the baby. She was still knitting a little yellow cardigan for my baby.

I went to visit again a few days later as she was in hospital. My dad had phoned to say that mum wanted me. I had been given time off by my boss to spend with my mum. He was a really grumpy old troll but he was very big on family and I was allowed as much time as I liked. When I arrived at the hospital mum was sat with a doctor and my dad. I went into the room and dad and the doctor left the room. Mum smiled and said she was glad I had come. We chatted and she told me I was her best friend. That was a lovely thing to hear as she was my best friend too. My dad came back in to say he was going home and said the doctor wanted to see me when I had a minute. I didn't have a minute, I was with mum.
The next day my sister came to the hospital with me. Mum gave us a cheque to pay into dad'sbank as he had some bills coming out. It must have been a Monday. She always did her books on a Monday. My sister and I did that for her. My other sister arrived the next day. We all sat around chatting in the hospital. I remember one Sunday my cousin came to visit. London's Burning was on the TV. He and I were chatting as we thought she was asleep. She suddenly told us to shut up as she was trying to watch TV. Her eyes were shut so we giggled.
I don't remember exactly when conversations were had. I know she commented that Uncle Ron hadn't been to visit. She said for a Dr who had a huge aversion to hospitals. I think he did come and visit one day but he didn't stay long. She laughed at his lack of bedside manner. Another day she told me not to remember her like that but to remember the good times. She told me how she had been to see ner Gran after she died and that was the only memory she now had of her. She didn't want that for us. She talked about snorkelling at Durdle Dor. When the cancer was getting to her that's where she pictured herself being. She didn't have men with pick axes but she did have a tranquil place to go to in her mind.
Slowly she got worse. My sister and I were sitting with her one day when the nurses came in. Mum spent most of the time asleep and we just sat with her. She was on lots of pain relieving drugs. The nurses needed to change the sheets. They rolled mum over and my sister and I stared at each other in disbelief.She had huge bed sores. They were weepy and horrible and huge. The nurses just rolled her round the bed chatting to each other. It was the most depressing, distressing thing I had seen.
Slowly mum spoke less and less. I would hold her hand and stroke her finger just like she had done for me so many times in the past. The sound of her breathing was gut renching. Sometimes she took huge breathes in and then nothing. My sister and I took deep breathes too and stared at each other.
On the morning of 20th October I had to leave the hospital as I had an antenatal appointment. I had wanted to cancel but with the stress I needed to make sure the baby was ok. I was given a lift to the train station and caught the train back to Fareham. I know I stood on the platform in tears and I know I found an empty carriage to sit in. A guard came round to check tickets. He pointed out I was in a first class carriage but my ticket wasn't. He asked if I was alright and told me to stay there.
I went to my appointment with my husband and then we drove back. I think it must have been in my mother in law's car as ours was still parked in the hospital car park. I hink my husband had borrowed it when I stayed behind but details are at best foggy. I know that instead of going straight to the hospital we went back home. We arrived at the same time as my dad and my sisters. That meant mum was at the hospital alone and that meant she must have gone as we wouldn't leave her on her own.
I was numb. I had let her down.When she needed me most I wasn't there and it was all the stupid baby's fault. That's what I thought because I couldn't face the fact she had gone. I had to go to the hospital to collect the car and I remember staring at her room. They were stupid thoughts in hind sight. The one thing that had been a positive was my pregnancy. Mum had read my notes,helped chose a name, felt the baby kick and wanted to be there. It was the bloody cancer at fault.
I went on to blame the sunbathing my mum did. She used to cover herself in olive oil to get a good tan. If she hadn't would she have got cance? My Granny blamed the exercise machines my mum used. Obviously if you lay on a machine that moved your limbs for you you would develop cancer! My dad blamed the wonder drug that would stop the breast cancer coming back. If we hadn't been lulled into a false sense of security would we have caught it earlier?

I'm not sure about time span. We had to go back to the hospital to the relatives room to collect the death certificate and her belongings. They asked if she had any jewelery and dad and I looked at each other. She had given us her rings to take home before because you couldn't trust people. It made us smile. Dad asked me to come with him to register her death. He didn't want to go on his own and thought I might be able to help. We also went to get quotes for her funeral. When she was in the hospital she told us we had to shop around for her funeral. We weren't allowed to just go to one place as they could rip us off in our grief. We needed to get a goood deal. I remember being in the car with dad trying to decide if we had been given a good price or f we needed to look else where. We couldn't face it and so assumed the price was good.
The joint bank accounts and mum's accounts were put on hold. Dad couldn't get to his money. It was ok though as the cheque mum had made me bank was meant to pay for her funeral. She knew dad would need it.
Her funeral was 2 weeks later, bonfire night. Her best friend was on holiday when she died so dad wanted to wait for her to come home. The day of her funeral was worse than the day she died. Evn the milkman left a note on the doorstep. There were 2 cars if I remember rightly. We followed the hearse from our house. I remember the hearse went through a red light and we followed. Mum was never very good with traffic lights, either stopping when they were green or pushing her luck when they went red. She even did it when she was dead! There were loads of people at the crematorium, some I hadn't seen for years. I wanted to greet and chat with them but it didn't seem right. I remember them carrying her coffin in. It looked too big to be her but I knew it was. I didn't want to believe it though.


That was the battle she lost.


So now I have 4 children who never met their Granny but who know about her. I am jealous of friends who still have their mums and who have great relationships with them. I am hugely greatful for the fantastic relationship I had with my mum when I see friends having trouble with theirs. My sister said to me that I wasn't mum's favourite. I'm not sure why she felt she had to say that. I know mum didn't have favourites amongst her children. I also know I was her best friend. She loved us all but we had a special friendship.