t was a sunny Friday morning when the news arrived. The perfect weather was an ironic slap to the face as we endured one of the worst days of our lives. A shrill ring from the phone grabbed the attention of all of us. The image of my mother’s face is burned into my memory forever. As she hung up the phone, I already knew the news was not what we had expected. She burst into tears as my father held her, tears falling from his own eyes. That day she was diagnosed with ductal carcinoma in situ, a form of breast cancer. That day was her 50th birthday. Following that dreadful day, the next few months were nothing short of horrid. Through the many months of treatment, I felt the burden of staying strong for not only my mother, but also my father. It was my job in all of this to be a strong supporting figure. Throughout the time of seeing my mother go through this process, I wondered what it must be like for women who are not financially stable. I was not alone in this thought, either. One random night, my two friends and myself began to build upon this thought. Thus, Pink Bowz was born. We started with a simple fundraiser, a pancake breakfast, at the local Highway 55 restaurant. For …show more content…
It was a true cancer horror story but she had stayed strong through everything and had a beautiful baby boy. After she gave birth, we went to see her and give her the check. We traveled to downtown Wilmington and visited with her new born baby, Gabe, and her husband. As we prepared to leave, we handed her the check from all of our fundraising for her. She took one look at the check in hand and bursted into tears.To her, the $1,000 check we handed her was so much more than a significant amount of money. It was a slight weight lifted off her shoulders, an emphasis on the fact that she was not in this alone, before nor
I, of course, knew my mother as a mother. As I have reached adulthood and become a mother myself, I have also known her as a friend. My mom shared much of herself with me, and I saw sides of my mother as she struggled with her cancer that I had never seen before, especially her strong belief in positive thinking and the importance of quality of life. I was privileged to know so many facets of my mother, but certainly I did not know all. There were parts of her life that I didn’t see, relationships that I didn’t know about. Last night, at the wake, so many stories were told to me about my mom’s strength, courage, humor, kindness, her quietness, her loyalty as a friend. It was so special to hear of these things that my mom said and did, to know some of these other parts of her life. I hope that her friends and family will continue to share these stories with me and with each other so we can continue to know and remember my mom.
Further back than two decades from the present moment, a beautiful woman blended flawlessly into the immaculate ottoman she lied upon; limp and colorless. Claiming each moment as an opportunity to retch up any remaining poisons, she also savored each minute as an opening for somber thoughts. Succeeding into only her mid-thirties, my mother was not near surrendering in her battle against Hodgkin's Lymphoma, and she was even further from anticipating any predestinations. Toxins recycling through her veins, she could barely imagine the following minute, let alone the ringing of a bell to signify the end of her treatment. And even though she was eventually able to grasp onto that bell, she still not able to grasp onto the doctor's unfortunate news
She’s been struggling everyday of her life for the past 10 years; battling and fighting this horrible disease has made it hard on her and her family. The cancer has now metastasized, making it difficult for her to take care of everyday responsibilities and participate in daily activities. Her 13-year-old daughter is watching as her mother suffers and becomes brittle and weak.
Not every day that I come across a person who has overcome cancer three times. No doubt, I have invariably admired people such as Lisa Brown for continuously showing optimism about life, although life has not been so fair to them. Additionally, as I listened intently to Lisa Brown’s speech, there were moments where I questioned how she persevered through her treatment with such a superb attitude and how in the world does someone get diagnosed with cancer three times. Nevertheless, besides those two thoughts throughout her speech, there was a duo of information from her that made me emotional and admired Lisa brown by the end of her speech. First and foremost, her guilt about surviving cancer and her attitude is admirable in my opinion.
“Smithy was not paying attention to the baby part. She was paying attention to the cancer part. Her mother had a 50% chance of dying. This baby, announced their mother, and she was smiling-Smithy always remembers that smile-is your brother or sister. A few days later, an ultrasound established that it was a baby boy. Mom was beaming. He’s healthy she said excitedly. You’re not, pointed the doctor. I’m tough. It’s only 5 more months. I’ll start chemo after the baby’s here. You’ll be dead by then. Mom shrugged.”
The memoir focuses on her learning to deal with cancer, the struggles of having a loved one with cancer, and the healing power of human connection.
directed her to question what lies behind. Many people in her family were suffering from cancer and
“Do you think it’s time to wake her up?” “Maybe we can let her sleep for ten more minutes…” My parents thought they were being sneaky and quiet by talking in whispers, as if sharing a secret message that nobody else could hear, but I was already awake and alert. “Let’s go in.” I heard my mother’s voice coo as I braced my seven-year-old body for the terrible phenomenon about to occur. I curled up in a ball under my covers like an armadillo in the smoldering desert, as a warm tear slid down my cheek and a burst of light flooded the room. My parents walked in and shook my shoulder. I instantly started sobbing as I knew that this was something I did not want to go to at all. “This will be the worst day of my life,” I thought to myself, “...the day where I get rid of my benign tumor, the day I have knee surgery.”
My grandmother was lying on her bed with her eyes closed. She was barely breathing and the color from her face was drained. My father suggested that I hold one of her hands, so I took her right hand and held it in mine. I couldn’t help but notice how cold, fragile, and weak her hand was. Most of my closer family members were around me, silently weeping and softly telling my grandmother to stay with us.
About 3 years ago John’s brother was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer. While this was taking place they mentioned to him that they were running trials on people who were good candidates believing that they’ve actually found the cure. But it didn’t work and this past year John’s brother passed away, leaving john in the state of depression. Though on that date January 27 he was getting back to his old self the man i fell in love with. This was a bump in the road that was smooth and could hopefully impact everyone’s life for the better.
After a time of mourning, I finally realized that I needed to fulfill the legacy that my mother had left behind. Instead displaying a sorrowful attitude, I felt like I could use this opportunity as a platform to help others. I wanted to reach out to individuals who were going through the same thing that I had gone through with my mom while she was battling cancer. My mother always believed that every student had the right to a higher education; therefore I wanted to continue her legacy by extending a helping hand towards those students with financial needs. Within the following weeks my family I decided to create what is now known as the Sonya Hernandez Memorial Fund. This fund targets students who have family members who are battling cancer. The goal of the Sonya Hernandez Memorial Fund is to raise money for these students so that they could have a financial head start on a higher education. I am one of the founders of this organization and my main purpose is setting up annual 5k run and walks as a way to raise scholarship money. Throughout the year I sit down with an advising committee composed of a few dedicated individuals who each have the same desire to be a blessing to others. We discuss
The look of sorrow and distress that then crossed my mother’s face will be engrained in my memory forever more. My mom hugged me and hugged me, as we both cried. Her warm embrace was the most comforting thing I had felt for a very long time, and most welcome, as my ordeal was still fresh in my mind. I bet we stood there for ten minutes, hugging and crying, because we both knew, that there was nothing we could do. This disease I was told, will eventually reach a maximum point of vision loss, can’t be fixed by glasses, and has no
Have you ever been so terrified that you wanted to cry? I saw my dad looking at his phone intensively, so I walked over to see what he was looking at. I looked at his phone and saw a horrifying bloody picture. I asked him what it was and he looked at me with a horrified look. He told me, “Your grandfather, he is sick.” I instantly turned around and asked what was wrong, and he told me, “Kidney Cancer”. Later he explained to me what it was, how it affects the human body, and why it's dangerous the entire time he was speaking, my eyes were open in shock.
It was June 6, 2011. I remember taking my mother to the County Hospital’s emergency room. She seemed extremely exhausted; her eyes were half-closed and yellow, and she placed her elbow on the armchair, resting her head on her palm. I remember it was crowded and the wait was long, so she wanted to leave. I was the only one there with her, but I did not allow her to convince me to take her home. I told her in Spanish, “Mom, let’s wait so that we can get this over with and know what’s going on with you. You’ll see everything is okay, and we’ll go home later on.” I wish then and now that would have been the case. Unfortunately, she was diagnosed with colon cancer that had spread to many parts of her body including her lungs and kidneys. The doctor said to me not considering that I was a minor and my mother’s daughter, “Her disease is very advanced and we don’t think she will live longer than a year.” With this devastating news, I did not know what to do. I thought to myself that perhaps I should cry, or try to forget and take care of her as best I could and make her laugh to ease her pain.
Each and every individual has a story to tell about his or her life experiences. On special occasions, some individuals will share those stories with us. Teah kindly shared her incredibly powerful story about her experience with cancer. In this paper, I will discuss Teah’s story and identify three concepts, coping, knowledge, and psychosocial issues, which arose within that story; furthermore, I will recognize my own assumptions regarding her story, which is crucial, as well as reflecting on the importance of the experience that was shared with me.