I barely remember our first Christmas at Grandma’s
house. In years past we would have
supper at Grandma and Grandpa’s and we would celebrate Rochelle’s
birthday. She never liked her birthday
on Christmas Eve but Mom and Dad always went out of their way to make her
birthday special. Mom would always wrap
her birthday presents in birthday paper rather than Christmas paper. When we were little, Rochelle and I would
stay at Grandma and Grandpa’s while Mom and Dad attended midnight mass. I remember playing Uncle Wiggly and
Husker-doo with Grandma while drinking eggnog.
Grandma loved to dance and sing. She had a large record player in her
living room. It was fun to put in records
and play games.
In reference to our first Christmas at Grandma’s. I do not have very many memories from
Christmas 1993. I know we got Nintendo Gameboys
and this may have been the year Rochelle got her brown leather jacket! Rochelle has never liked surprises. As a kid, she would literally sniff and shake
her presents and would guess what was wrapped under the tree. This year was no exception. Leave it to Mom and Dad to be so organized
and have special gifts for us considering what they were going through. I remember the excitement the morning of
Christmas but I also remember a gray cloud hanging over us. Mom did her best to
put on a brave face but at this point, I could sense the sadness. After all of the presents were opened and the
paper cleaned up, I remember going downstairs and I played my new Gameboy in
front of the fireplace.
I have very little memories of Mom’s initial
treatment. I assume her initial surgery
was either right before or right after Christmas. She had a single mastectomy without
reconstruction. She really wanted to
have both breasts removed but her doctor assured her that this was a “freak
occurrence” and her chances of getting breast cancer on her right side was
“nil.” In 1993 the research was slim
and breast cancer was not very well understood.
Mom was diagnosed with triple negative breast cancer. She had 17 lymph nodes removed from her
armpit and arm on her left side due to malignancy. She had her surgery done in McCook. Mom was a woman who knew what she wanted and
she was adamant that both breasts be removed.
She never wanted to find herself in this position again. She begged and pleaded with no avail. I remember Mom telling us she wanted to
focus on getting better then she would go back and have her other breast
removed.
Mom’s work ethic is worthy of praise! It seems to me she only took off a couple of
weeks after her surgery and she would miss a day here and there to make trips
to Omaha to see her doctors. Regardless
of how bad she was feeling she would make it to work. Again, that was Mom’s way of keeping things
normal as possible!
I remember Rochelle came home from a home basketball
game just after the New Year (1994).
Small towns are wonderful for many reasons but news definitely spreads
like wildfire. Mom and Dad did their
best to protect us in terms of sparing the graphic details of Mom's illness and treatment. All we needed to hear was “things are going
to be okay” and we were able to live our seemingly carefree lives. When Rochelle came home from the basketball game she was crying as she walked through the front door. Some people at the game approached her
and said to her, “I hear your Mom is full of cancer.” She was obviously devastated by this news and
was frightened! Mom and Dad talked to us
and reassured us that she was not full of cancer but she had to continue
to travel to Omaha so she could take the medicine and get better. I remember feeling anger towards the people
that approached my sister to ask her questions about Mom. Little did we know that was one of life’s
many lessons and it was paving the way for Rochelle to learn to react to the
things that come out of people’s mouths.
More on that later!
My sister and I were somewhat oblivious to the
situation we were faced with. We knew
Mom was sick but we knew she would get better and life would return to how it
was before her diagnosis. I remember
seeing lines connected to Mom’s chest and I remember Dad pushing clear fluids
through the lines to keep them clean. I
also remember seeing a very large bruise on Mom’s hip. I had never seen a bruise as big and as black
as the bruise that was on Mom. I asked
her what happened and she told me the doctors had to make sure her bone marrow
was healthy so they had to do a test to check her out. Not once did she complain about how bad it
hurt or how big the needle was. Once
again she reassured me that everything was on track and she was doing
well. It wasn’t until years later she
shared with me just how painful the procedure was (and just how large the
needle was).
The night before Mom's treatment, she and Dad
would pack up and leave for Lincoln.
They would stay with uncle Eldon and aunt Carol Ogorzolka then drive into Omaha early the next morning. Mom would get her treatment and they would
make the 4-5 hour trek back to Indianola so Mom could return to work the
following day. I do not remember her
being sick from the chemo she but I am sure she was. Grandma would make us a big breakfast every
morning before school. She made French
toast, eggs and bacon. Looking back, it
is amazing we didn’t pack on the pounds due to the breakfast we ate every
morning! LOL
I remember one Saturday morning Mom and Dad told us
that it was time to shave her head.
“Shave your head” I asked? Why
would you shave your head? Mom showed us
that her hair was starting to fall out because the chemo. She explained the medicine was killing the fast growing cells in her body and as a result, she was getting better but her hair was falling out. She invited us to the kitchen as
Grandma draped a blue bath towel around her and started shaving her head. Mom was smiling from ear to ear and not one
time did a tear roll down her face. I
remember being somewhat confused but I knew Mom had this and was in
control. She had purchased a wig in
anticipation of her hair falling out.
Grandma finished shaving her head and placed the wig on Mom. I remember thinking how beautiful she was and
how real her wig looked but even more so I remember thinking how brave Mom
was.
As I am typing this I am grabbing for a
Kleenex. The amount of courage Mom had
is hard to comprehend. Mom continued to
smile and be a warrior for her children. There is no way I would be able to
come close to handling that situation with the amount of grace and confidence
Mom had. Once again, this was another
one of life’s lessons. It wasn’t until
years later she told us she went to her room, put her face in a pillow and
cried (and cried and cried). Losing her
hair and seeing a bald reflection in the mirror made the fact she had cancer a
reality. Her physical strength,
emotional strength and spiritual strength were just a few traits I
admired! She was so brave and confident
in a very sad and real experience.
I remember Mom taking naps and saying she was
tired. I also remember watching her
gurgle with salt water because her mouth had developed sores in it due to the
treatment. Mom brushed off these
inconveniences and continued to be very positive. We started getting used to
our “new normal.” Rochelle and I were
busy with school and farming season was starting to pick up. I cannot remember how many treatments Mom
received but it seemed to fly by. Once
she completed her final round of chemotherapy, it was time to start
radiation.
Mom had to take approximately 6 weeks off work because of the travel time associated with her radiation treatments. Dad drove Mom to Grand Island 5 days a week for 6 weeks so she could receive radiation at St. Francis Medical Center. The actual radiation treatments only took a few minutes but Grand Island was the closest facility to Indianola that offered radiation therapy. There were times Dad couldn’t drive because he had to tend to the farm so our wonderful family and friends stepped in and helped. Mom didn’t complain about her burned skin due to radiation. She saw it as reassurance that whatever the chemo didn’t get the radiation would. Her skin was very raw and red, comparable to a severe sunburn. Mom and Dad obviously did an amazing job at keeping our lives as normal as possible. I really cannot remember much of anything during Mom’s treatment. I cannot imagine the level of stress and anxiety they must have had. It had to be extremely difficult to always put on a brave face and reassure my sister and I that things were fine when in fact, things really weren’t fine (or as good as they had hoped at that stage of her treatment). Quite honestly, it had to be exhausting. Many tears were shed and many prayers were said during the road trips to and from Omaha as well as during the nights when they couldn’t sleep due to the fear and physical burden cancer brings.
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