Two years ago this month, my family’s lives were changed forever when my mom was diagnosed with colon cancer.
She had been displaying what we now know to be symptoms of the disease for well over a year and had to get periodic iron infusions to help with her iron deficiency anemia. Though we were devastated by the diagnosis, at least we finally had gotten answers, and soon, we would find out the course of action.
I will never forget the look on Mom’s face when the doctor told her they’d found a tumor during her colonoscopy and, that to remove it, surgery would be required. There was so much fear there and the tears were starting to well up.
When a person gets a diagnosis of this magnitude, so much information follows that it’s hard to keep up and can become overwhelming. That was the case for my mom. Though I wanted to cry, too, I told myself in that moment that going forward, I would be her eyes and ears throughout the process.
Needless to say, getting a cancer diagnosis at the age of 79 had not been on her radar, but not long after we got home that day, and as we were still processing the news, she told me that if her surgical oncologist told her the cancer was at the stage where there was hope she could fight it, she would give it her all.
And she did just that, going through three months (six chemo treatments), though her mobility challenges sometimes made it very difficult.
After her treatments concluded came the monitoring phase, which has included periodic blood work and CT scans to check for anything suspicious. She also had a follow-up colonoscopy.
Fortunately, so far, the results on all fronts have been encouraging— her medical oncologist at one point told her with a grin that she was “80 going on 70” — and, obviously, we’re praying it stays that way.
Mom has come a long way since we got the news, and I’d like to think that as her daughter and caregiver, I have, too.
But I’m not so sure. Any setbacks in life, minor or major, that have happened since October 2022, she’s been much better about bouncing back than I have.
I think her diagnosis and what came after it toughened her up but also reaffirmed her belief about life being precious and embracing every second of it while you still can.
While I’m there myself, at least as far as the “life is precious” part, I’m also the type who is always looking for the black cloud that I’m sure is looming rather than being able to fully enjoy life’s good moments when they come.
I was recently reminded of this when Mom decided it was time to put the electric blanket on her bed for the fall and winter seasons.
While I grumbled about the contortions I had to go through to get the blanket’s cords situated under the bed, Mom kept talking about how she was looking forward to the warmth it provided in the evenings when it got cool.
Sure enough, the first night it was on her bed, I had turned it on in advance to get it heated up for her so that when she got into bed, she would feel the warmth immediately.
As she got herself settled and the bed covers situated, the contented smile that formed on her face was everything.
Her eyes had a much different look than they did two years ago. This time around, they were shining bright and green, and she said, “This feels perfect.”
I paused to appreciate the moment and count my blessings and said, “I agree, Mom.” It felt perfect indeed.
North Carolina native Stacey Matthews has also written under the pseudonym Sister Toldjah and is a media analyst and regular contributor to RedState and Legal Insurrection.
