Between the beginning of 2009 and 2013, a lot of living happened. My family dealt with other health crises, I went through a huge breakup, started a new relationship, moved to DC and back. I started attending the School of International Service at American University in Washington, DC in August 2009. I completed my Master's in International Studies in May 2011 and moved back to Maine in November 2012. The DC chapter of my life was an eventful and enjoyable one. During my time there, I went to Japan twice, went to Europe once, reconnected with good friends from New England, made new friends, interned for a non-profit, learned Korean and of course, earned my degree. My parents visited at least once a year, including for my AU graduation. It is funny and sad in that I remember feeling so annoyed during their visits, particularly my Mother, and yet I treasure those times so much now. I wish I hadn't wasted the time feeling annoyed and stressed and instead just enjoyed their visit. I am so grateful that my parents were able to be there for my graduation; it was stressful at the time, but knowing that my parents got to witness such an important event for me I will treasure forever.
I moved back to Maine in November 2012. My parents drove down to VA in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy to help us move. The four of us and our dog Studley hauled all of the belongs that we had acquired in our 3 years in VA back to Maine over the course of 2 days. It was stressful and makes for a good story, to say the least. No one died, we got back in one piece and I will never move all of my stuff such a long distance again. Consequently, it was also the last road trip that I would ever take with my Mom. We would never have been able to move back to Maine/New England if it weren't for my parents, or Scott's family. We moved in with Scott's brother and sister-in-law for about 3 months and managed to find jobs and rented a house. My Mother never got a chance to visit our house in Maine.
In March of 2013, Mom decided to run for a position in the local government of our hometown in Vermont. Mom loved local politics and was very excited about her run for office. About a week or two before the election, headaches that my Mom had been having since the beginning of the year became so bad that she felt that she needed to drop out of the race. I know that it broke her heart to do so, but she was happy with the candidate who won the election.
She went to her doctor for her headaches but not much was thought of them; headaches are a common ailment, after all. She had a clean cancer scan in Fall 2012 and was almost 4 and a half years cancer-free. Then, she developed a cough that would not go away and pain in her chest, which we all thought was related to the coughing. Again, her doctor checked her out, said that it was just a cold and not to worry. Fortunately for Mom, she was a great advocate for her own health and persisted in getting treatment.
In early May 2013, Mom had enough of feeling poorly and pushed the issue again with her doctor. Scans were done at the nearby hospital and Mom was sent home while the scans were reviewed. Shortly after Mom arrived home, her doctor called and told her that she needed to get to an ER right away; she had blood clots in her lungs. My parents immediately went to a very good hospital that was a little further away for treatment. More tests were performed and it was discovered that the spots on the scan were not blood clots but cancerous lesions. Shortly thereafter, Mom went back to the local hospital and PET scans were done that showed that there was cancer throughout her body; it was Stage IV, metastatic cancer. Apparently, her breast cancer had returned with a vengeance. The chest pain and cough were caused by cancer cells around her lungs and in her ribs. Most ominously, she also had small tumors in her liver.
From the onset, my Mom was the bravest out of all of us. She famously said "I have beat cancer once and I can beat it again." The doctors said that while it was not curable, she had about another 2-3 years. Looking back on it, we would have gladly taken that estimate. We were devastated by the projected brevity of her days. We all coped with it in our separate ways: taking it as the cold, hard truth, denying the reality of the situation, and being optimistic almost to a fault. Somedays it was a combination of all of those things. Meanwhile, my Mom was all business: updating her will, going to treatment and getting stuff done around the house.
I happened to begin individual therapy on the day my Mom was diagnosed with Stage IV, purely by coincidence (if you believe in that). I struggled greatly with accepting the "new normal"; one day my parents were supposed to come visit us in Maine, the next day my Mom had Stage IV cancer and was fighting for her life. It was hard to realize that things could never be the way they were before, no matter how successful the treatment. Through therapy, I realized that the best thing that I could do was to spend time with my Mom. If I had to do it again, I would have spent even more time with her.
We didn't try to do anything "epic" like try to take a trip or go skydiving, those "bucket-list" activities that people try to do before they die. Part of the reason was that we always said "when the cancer goes into remission, we'll do 'x'"; we saved things for when Mom was done with treatment and would be feeling better. Truthfully, I don't think I regret not doing those saved things as Mom wasn't feeling well and never felt well again. I do however regret not doing them BEFORE her cancer returned.
The other reason was that I simply wanted to spend time with her. Whenever I went home, I was always spending time with my other family members. I know that this helped Mom in a way; she got some alone time and felt good that I was spending time with my Dad or sister. Rarely did I spend time with just her. After her cancer came back, we started an adult friendship that we had not previously enjoyed. Back in VA, my Mom had given me a kitschy magnet that said "a daughter is just a little girl who grows up to be your best friend." I think I scoffed at it when she gave it to me, but through this experience I realized that it was true: she was one of my best friends. We did things that best friends did on our days together, which would go something like: doctor's appointment, thrift store shopping, lunch at Panera, round of chemo, pick up some groceries, go home. It felt glorious and normal at the same time. And we had a great time, even more fun than skydiving.
I moved back to Maine in November 2012. My parents drove down to VA in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy to help us move. The four of us and our dog Studley hauled all of the belongs that we had acquired in our 3 years in VA back to Maine over the course of 2 days. It was stressful and makes for a good story, to say the least. No one died, we got back in one piece and I will never move all of my stuff such a long distance again. Consequently, it was also the last road trip that I would ever take with my Mom. We would never have been able to move back to Maine/New England if it weren't for my parents, or Scott's family. We moved in with Scott's brother and sister-in-law for about 3 months and managed to find jobs and rented a house. My Mother never got a chance to visit our house in Maine.
In March of 2013, Mom decided to run for a position in the local government of our hometown in Vermont. Mom loved local politics and was very excited about her run for office. About a week or two before the election, headaches that my Mom had been having since the beginning of the year became so bad that she felt that she needed to drop out of the race. I know that it broke her heart to do so, but she was happy with the candidate who won the election.
She went to her doctor for her headaches but not much was thought of them; headaches are a common ailment, after all. She had a clean cancer scan in Fall 2012 and was almost 4 and a half years cancer-free. Then, she developed a cough that would not go away and pain in her chest, which we all thought was related to the coughing. Again, her doctor checked her out, said that it was just a cold and not to worry. Fortunately for Mom, she was a great advocate for her own health and persisted in getting treatment.
In early May 2013, Mom had enough of feeling poorly and pushed the issue again with her doctor. Scans were done at the nearby hospital and Mom was sent home while the scans were reviewed. Shortly after Mom arrived home, her doctor called and told her that she needed to get to an ER right away; she had blood clots in her lungs. My parents immediately went to a very good hospital that was a little further away for treatment. More tests were performed and it was discovered that the spots on the scan were not blood clots but cancerous lesions. Shortly thereafter, Mom went back to the local hospital and PET scans were done that showed that there was cancer throughout her body; it was Stage IV, metastatic cancer. Apparently, her breast cancer had returned with a vengeance. The chest pain and cough were caused by cancer cells around her lungs and in her ribs. Most ominously, she also had small tumors in her liver.
From the onset, my Mom was the bravest out of all of us. She famously said "I have beat cancer once and I can beat it again." The doctors said that while it was not curable, she had about another 2-3 years. Looking back on it, we would have gladly taken that estimate. We were devastated by the projected brevity of her days. We all coped with it in our separate ways: taking it as the cold, hard truth, denying the reality of the situation, and being optimistic almost to a fault. Somedays it was a combination of all of those things. Meanwhile, my Mom was all business: updating her will, going to treatment and getting stuff done around the house.
I happened to begin individual therapy on the day my Mom was diagnosed with Stage IV, purely by coincidence (if you believe in that). I struggled greatly with accepting the "new normal"; one day my parents were supposed to come visit us in Maine, the next day my Mom had Stage IV cancer and was fighting for her life. It was hard to realize that things could never be the way they were before, no matter how successful the treatment. Through therapy, I realized that the best thing that I could do was to spend time with my Mom. If I had to do it again, I would have spent even more time with her.
We didn't try to do anything "epic" like try to take a trip or go skydiving, those "bucket-list" activities that people try to do before they die. Part of the reason was that we always said "when the cancer goes into remission, we'll do 'x'"; we saved things for when Mom was done with treatment and would be feeling better. Truthfully, I don't think I regret not doing those saved things as Mom wasn't feeling well and never felt well again. I do however regret not doing them BEFORE her cancer returned.
The other reason was that I simply wanted to spend time with her. Whenever I went home, I was always spending time with my other family members. I know that this helped Mom in a way; she got some alone time and felt good that I was spending time with my Dad or sister. Rarely did I spend time with just her. After her cancer came back, we started an adult friendship that we had not previously enjoyed. Back in VA, my Mom had given me a kitschy magnet that said "a daughter is just a little girl who grows up to be your best friend." I think I scoffed at it when she gave it to me, but through this experience I realized that it was true: she was one of my best friends. We did things that best friends did on our days together, which would go something like: doctor's appointment, thrift store shopping, lunch at Panera, round of chemo, pick up some groceries, go home. It felt glorious and normal at the same time. And we had a great time, even more fun than skydiving.
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