My Mother And The Loss Of Her

One weekend, we had decided to clean out the house to surprise my mother. My father found papers stashed away that revealed theft charges; my mother had stolen medication when she substituted for the nurse in my elementary school. I remember my dad scouring the house for more evidence, even finding a stash of pill bottles under their mattress. She had another court date coming up that he learned about, just a few weeks before a family trip to Disney. Shortly after that hearing, my family took our last vacation as a whole, knowing that a key member would be lost to us the Monday after our return; she was going into work-release for two months. Before the end of those sixty days, my father learned that my mother had been unfaithful. Their marriage ended, and at eleven and nine, my sister and I said what we didn't realize would be goodbye to our mother for a great while. Her drug abuse continued, and months of time would pass between visits. We saw that sweet, ideal mother devolve into an addict. This loss has shaped me greatly, and it has taught me integrity, strength of character, and great love for others; without these things, my mother cost herself her family and

That day when I returned home from school, my mom’s boyfriend called me asking to speak to my grandmother. Typically, Gus would call my grandmother himself if he wanted to speak with her, which was rare. I found out about my mom going to the hospital from my grandmother after that phone call. The doctor told my family that a stroke afflicted her in the middle of the day. My mom confused the date with her birthday, had trouble getting words out and remembering our family member’s names. The nurse had to take her for walks periodically and exercise her legs and arms because they were weak. Seeing my mother in this condition made me appreciate my mother and everything she does for me tremendously. However, I was terrified for my mother’s health.

Everyone knows the disastrous effects cancer has on a person and their loved ones. Knowing that my mom was misdiagnosed, there could've been a moment when she may have still been here on Earth. During 2005, my mom noticed that something was wrong with her. This realization lead her to go seek a doctor at Lincoln hospital. During her examination, the doctors didn't noticed anything was wrong. After three years she went back again, and Dr. Max Ann examined my mother a second time,but this time he discovered that she had cancer. This

When my dad came home that evening he sat me down and asked me if I knew what cancer was. I had an idea so I just nodded my head, he went on to tried to explain to me how bad the cancer was that my mom had been diagnosed with. Seeing my dad so afraid scared me. The fear I felt then led me to realize that I needed to try and hide it because it would only hurt my dad more to see his children so upset. I did my best to help, I tucked my little sisters into bed while my mom was away at the hospital, read them stories and did the best I could at preparing snacks to comfort them. After my mom arrived home and she recovered from the surgery she started chemotherapy. The miserable treatment that attacks the cancer also makes her very ill. Every other week she was sick. Before every bad week I wanted to cry, but that wouldn’t help anyone. Lane and Kenna already were crying, if I cried it could only hurt my parents

It all started with our family sitting at the dinner table with my mom crying, holding crumpled up tissues with black streaks of mascara on it. My dad nervous enough to say, “Your mom has stage four breast cancer.” Those words have stuck in my head clear as a bell for the last eight years. Our faces of curiosity soon turned into fear. As an eight year old I didn’t understand a lot of words grownups said, but those burning words were sharp knifes on my throat.

It all started when I received a phone call from my mother in 1998. She had recently been diagnosed with breast cancer. I was grief stricken, and prayed she would get through this terrible ordeal. Nineteen years later, and she is in remission and doing great. Fast forward to 2007. I was active duty military and had not been getting my mammograms as recommended because of the high risk of breast cancer, or any cancer for that matter. I was stationed in Colorado Springs, at the Air Force Academy. I scheduled the mammogram due to soreness and an unusual lump in my left breast. (Teresa Harris).

When I found out that my mother had cancer, I was in shock and did not know how to take everything in. She decided that her being diagnosed with cancer will be the best thing that ever happened to her, not the worst. At 37 years old my mother was diagnosed with stage I breast cancer. She discovered the cancer at a very early stage, which was very lucky and satisfying to hear. The way my mother discovered she had, it was an insane experience for the both of us. She started having pain in November of 2016 in her left armpit; she did not think of it as such a vast deal so she just ignored it. Nevertheless the pain got worse over time and eventually she went to see a doctor.

In 2012 my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer, for the following year and a half I watched my mother undergo multiple surgeries, daily radiation, and a variety of other intensive treatments. Throughout the entire process I watched my mother physically and mentally deteriorate. At the time my knowledge of the disease was minimal and not only was I fearful of my mothers future, but I was also unaware of the physiological functions that would overcome my mothers body eternally. Following a year and a half of agonizing and aggressive treatments my family received the news that my mother was officially in complete remission. Throughout my mothers battle with breast cancer my family and I met countless individuals who were

After a while of sitting in my grandparents living room mindlessly playing with my toys I decided to get up. I walked towards the commotion going on in the small hallway connecting the living room to the kitchen. The gathering of people consisted of my mom, dad, grandpa, and grandma. Curious about what was going on I walked over to the group. I reached my mom and looked up to see that her eyes were bloodshot, as if she had been crying. I looked over to my dad and his face, like everyone else's, was grim. During this time I kept hearing one repeating word, cancer. I started to listen more closely to the conversation going on around me because even at the age of seven I knew that cancer was bad news. I listened intently and heard my mom explain how she had colon cancer.

However, over telephone conversations, I could feel my mom’s presence, giving me advice and letting me know soon we will be reunited. As long as I felt her encouragement, I didn’t feel any anxiety or sadness. The day she took her life, by inhaling gas, everything changed. Knowing that I would not have another chance to see her face or hear her voice wounded me. For weeks, I felt numb. I was deaf to my surroundings. I couldn't eat and didn’t have the will to open my eyes. Nothing made me happy. The thought of bringing her here had driven me forward and motivated me, and now she would never witness my success.

I cannot describe what I felt when my mom told me she had cancer. I was sad, I was scared; I did not even know if I felt anything. My mom, however, stayed positive and hopeful while I stayed quiet and seemingly apathetic. There was an obvious ironic contrast between the emotional state of me and the woman who actually had cancer.

Fortunately, I have never suffered from an illness resulting in severe medical treatment. Unfortunately, my grandfather has, thus I will be writing about my experience regarding his cancer journey. As I was sunbathing along the Dominican beaches I had gotten a phone call from my mother. As I saw her name ringing on my phone I immediately began to worry since we only communicated through wifi and called solely for emergencies. She expressed that my grandfather was diagnosed with stage four cancer and only had a couple of weeks left to live.

The doctors told us that mom would be in the hospital for about a month during her first chemo treatment. This news was overwhelming. Not having my mom at home for over a month scared me. I wondered how our family was going to stay strong without mom. She did so many things for all of us. Who would

My grandmother and her siblings lived near a grocery store with old fashion wooden floor as well as freshly picked fruits and vegetables from the farm. My grandmother stated the rent prices was different compare to her days and her oldest sister had to pay only $6.50 for rent. My grandmother said back in her time a nickel was worth a whole lot and If you had a dime you were considered to have a lot of money. To return to the subject, after losing their mother, another tragedy strikes seven years later when my grandmother finds out her younger sister Veronica got married. My grandmother stated from her days you could get married at the age of fifteen if you had parents ' permission. Everyone was so upset because he or she thinks her sister was too young to get married and did not trust her husband. My grandmother said he kept saying he would kill somebody and go to jail. My grandmother said her sister husband started to give her bad vibes. To change the topic my grandmother also said one day when her sister was in bed trying to go to sleep her husband was in the bathroom taking a bath. She felt something poking at her side and turn around to see what it was. It was a bunch of knives in the bed with her. Fear for her life she left silently while her husband was still in the bathroom. One day my grandmother sister spouse had called her sister to meet him on the track. Hesitant she went to meet him that morning. After my grandmother sister was done talking to him, she turns to

I was steadily put into the hospital daycare at three years old while Toysha would be visiting my father, but at times he would end up being too sick for me to come visit, so my mother would take me to my grandmothers and she would have to take care of me. Eventually, Christopher’s cancer started to metastasize, and together my mother and father decided to make the decision to have me go live with my grandmother for the better. Christopher did not want me to be around to see him in that condition and my mother thought I would have a better way of living if I was not with them. The love that they had for each other allowed them to make rational decisions and sacrifices for the better of my life and