mommy_silver

heya folks,

At the moment, I can put a rant here about how important it is that women screen their own breasts, and that it is important to go to national screening programm, but I think we all have the knowledge and know-how that breast cancer screening is important. So no, nothing of that.

This year at the screening for breast cancer for all women in the Netherlands who turn 50 (like my mom) my mom was diagnosed with a tumor in her breast. It was about 8 cm in length and because the doctor in my hometown said it was benigne (good, friendly, not bad) it could remain there and that it wasn't breast cancer. Odd, for his nurse practisioner had exclaimed that every tumor, good or bad, bigger than 4 cm, would be removed no questions ask.

That she had a tumor in her breast, was something all of us could live with, understand and deal with it. If it was truly benigne, well, let it be benigne. Besides me and my sis, only a few good friends knew about this condition. And everyone was glad that it proved to be good.

Nowadays, half a year later, my mom is so darn tired. Her breast hurts, she feels her breast with every movement she makes during day and night. At work, asleep, eating, drinking, sitting, standing, walking, you name it, she feels the breast. There are already outer signs visible that it is maligne (bad, evil, deadly). Still, the doctor in my hometown refused treatment.

So, in dire need my mom had sent a letter filled with her despair, pain and the results of this doctor's sloppy behaviour to another hospital, without any real hope that anyone would read it.

They did read the letter and sent my mom a note that she has an appointment next week. Afraid that the insurance wouldn't cover the second opinion (because mom thought it was a second opinion) she turned it down.

Later that same evening she got a phone call from the secretary of a certain doctor from the second hospital, that she had to come over no matter what. that the entire team of medical staff was astonished that the first doctor let her walk around like that for so long, that she musn't go back to that other doctor ever again and that if the insurance refuses to cover the entire procedure, that the hospital board will come up with a financial arrangement.

What the treatment will be, nobody knows. That's a big surprise. But that's life: the biggest surprise of all. You never know what will happen tomorrow.
Astonished that there was a doctor that demanded to see my mom, all three of us were practically in tears. We ate a lot that evening: cheese, potato chips and cookies. Well, that's our way of handling with not so fun emotions.

So my mom, convinced, is finally going. The most odd thing is: she turns 50 this sunday. How odd, life and death so close together. Not everyone in the family knows already about this; some just can't handle it and above all, we want a nice and quiet celebration. She's gonna see Sarah, you don't do that every day.

Mom's gonna fight. My sis and I, we're fighting with her. Cause you don't have cancer alone: it affects us all in a different way. We're fighting all three on our own distinctive way. So:

Let's get it on! HARRR! ;-P