I was reading over the Thanksgiving column I wrote for 2022 and it reminded me all over again just how much things have changed for the better since then in what has honestly been a whirlwind last couple of years for my mom and me.
In that column, I talked about how it had been roughly a month since Mom, who was 79 years old at the time, had been diagnosed with colon cancer, which turned out to be stage 3B.
She had surgery to remove the tumor three weeks after her diagnosis. Two weeks after that she was talking to the medical oncologist she had been referred to about chemotherapy options.
A month later, two days before Christmas to be exact on what turned out to be one of the coldest days of the year, she had surgery for placement of her chemo port.
Three weeks after that is when she began the first of six chemo treatments, which took place over the course of three months.
Like I said earlier, it was a whirlwind.
Chemotherapy was rough on her, as anyone who has had to experience chemo will attest. One of the medications used in her treatments tends to cause peripheral neuropathy (which can be temporary or permanent, mild to severe, depending on how well your body recovers from chemo) the longer you are on it.
But in her case, it started early on. It was so bad at times that I felt like at some point she was going to say, “Enough of this.” And yet she soldiered on, telling me along the way that she had too much to live for to give up the fight.
On the day she rang the bell, my sister and I took photos and videos, and even now some eight months later, Mom still watches them occasionally, smiling and remembering the feeling of accomplishment she had, and the hope that came along with it for her and for us that she was hopefully, by God’s grace, cancer free.
She’s had three follow-up appointments since then for lab work, and her lab numbers each time have been encouraging. Her CT scans that she had done over the summer looked good, with no signs of recurrence.
At her most recent appointment two weeks ago with her medical oncologist, his exact words to her after seeing her latest numbers were “You’re 80 years old going on 70.” She beamed from ear to ear, and she and I hugged as it was almost a year to the day since she had had her tumor surgery.
She’s come a long way since then, and so have I.
After all, we were still grieving the loss of my dad when we found out the concerning news about her diagnosis, so we had to put our sadness to the side and push through, because you need every ounce of strength you have to fight cancer and to be the person who is taking care of the loved one who is going through it.
This Thanksgiving as we gather around the table for the family feast, we’ll be thanking God as we often do for the many blessings we’ve experienced throughout the year, and will pray for more to come once Mom has her follow-up colonoscopy (belatedly, since it takes forever to get one here), where we pray we’ll get good news and a clean report.
This Thanksgiving, no matter how large or small, remember to take a moment at some point to step back and appreciate all the love in the room, and bottle that memory up so you can remember it on the days when it feels like all hope is lost.
I wish everyone reading this a blessed Thanksgiving holiday.
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.