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Living With Cancer XVII

Living With Cancer XVII

I had just walked off the plane back from London and saw my Mom for the first time in two months. I had spent the summer in England and my Mom had her second round of chemotherapy. This time she looked bad. It looked like all the fight was gone. She looked as if she had been run over by a steam roller. She was skinny and haggard.

It was hard for us to talk as some family from New Jersey had come down for a vacation. It was good to see them but they were all over the house and it was hard for my Mom and I to talk. It wasn't until after everyone went back home and it was just Mom and I in the house alone when we talked. She told of the throwing up. The pains and discomfort were terrible she said. I was glad I was those three thousand miles away.

The month of August went by quickly and I went back to my senior year at Chamberlain and Mom went back to work. Everything was going alright for awhile and then you could see the toll it was taking on Mom. She would come home and have to lay down before supper. I had my job to go to after school and I wouldn't see Mom until about 9:15 in the evening. It was then that I found out she would wait for me to get home to eat. I would tell her she shouldn't wait for me.

In November the armed forces came to school on a recruiting tour. The next day I skipped school and signed up to take my entrance tests. Mom lasted two more days and left work on a Friday never to go back. She would barely leave the house after that unless she went to the Doctor. We tried to go to church but she couldn't take the shame of being in a wheel chair. She had given up.

I passed my tests for the Army and passed my GED and would sign up for a delayed entry not to go to boot until July 31st 1979. I chose this date because the Doctor had told me for the second time at Christmas that Mom would only have three months to live. This time I believed him

That's right, the Doctor told me the year before that my Mom would die in three months right before Christmas. The second time he told me this it took three nurses, my cousin, and my Mom to pull me off the Doctor. I beat his ass. I was pissed. I also enjoyed beating that jackass. We made the best at Christmas and it was good. It was the last one my Mom would see. It was the beginning of the end and the worst part of my life. A part that took years to overcome.