Mum's the Word



My Mom, who is in her mid-seventies, is a breast cancer survivor.

Not once.

Twice.

She was first diagnosed with breast cancer about 17 years ago. She had a lumpectomy and underwent radiation therapy. Over ten years later, she had a recurrence. She ended up having a mastectomy.

My Mom caught the cancer early. She had just had a mammogram and although they called her back for a second look, the radiologist told her everything was just fine.

Until she found a tiny lump during a self-exam less than a month later.

She was devastated to find out about the cancer. My Mom, though, has never had time for self-pity. She asked what her options were and followed her surgeon's and oncologist's advice.

My Mom takes care of herself. She does 1000 demi-squats every morning (yes, really!) and lifts light weights. She weighs a mere 103 pounds. She eats right, but does enjoy occasional desserts.

My Mom was living in this area during her first bout with cancer, but she and my Dad moved to the South two years later. She and my Dad have driven up here from the South every October for the past fifteen years so she can continue seeing her surgeon and oncologist.

Last year, her oncologist said that she is in complete remission. The cancer appears to be gone. Her oncologist said that she needs to continue seeing her family doctor, but there is little need for her to be seen by an oncologist.

I was happy to hear the news, but a bit saddened that they won't be visiting. Every year when they visit, my Mom, Dad, and I go to a local nursery and buy two big, beautiful Mums. It has become a tradition.

I normally buy a seasonal color--such as orange.

This year, however, I think I will buy pink Mums. In celebration of my Mom's life. Mums in honor of my Mum!

She is a fighter!