In the earlier posts I spoke of my Mother having her breast removed, the weirdness when she came home from the hospital, and the anger and frustration I felt even though I was only three years old. I did not understand when she went back to work. Even though she was tired she worked at Metropolitan life Insurance as a stenographer. She still had her arm wrapped up every day and that was the only thing that would let you know that my Mother was ill. My Father on the other hand had no idea how to take care of my Mother. Sure he would cook and help with her bandages, but he was a nervous wreck. He was always afraid he was going to hurt her in some way.
On the hand, I was just a kid. One day while staying at my Grandmother's house I became so bored that I decided to walk to my Aunt Marilyn's two miles away. I wanted to play with my cousins. I walked down Himes Avenue, a busy thoroughfare with no sidewalk, and arrived alive. Unfortunately, when I got picked up my parents were not too happy with me. Oh yeah, I received a whipping. I would then attend Mary's Little Lambs Daycare from that point on. I was looking for attention and it was the only way I knew how to get it. Children at a young age always want to be the center of attention but when you have a mother who is battling cancer you end up taking the back seat. I was jealous of my Mother and I didn't know why. I was angry at her because she wouldn't play with me. Before her surgery we were always playing around as a family but then cancer came and it stopped.
It was probably nine months after Mom's surgery when she started to have pains in her left underarm. She would again go to the hospital to have some lymph nodes removed. Mom wasn't in the hospital for very long but she really had a problem with her left arm when she got home. It would be months before she had full use of her left arm. I was four now and my Mother had been in the hospital twice in a year. I would be the next patient soon after this.