Holiday Season

[noiretextatique]

Has been a really tough time for me. My father died a month before Thanksgiving in 2005.

As fate would have it, Thanksgiving of 2005 was the last Thanksgiving we had with my younger sister, Cynthia. Cynthia was ill and in the hospital on Xmas eve, my birthday, and Xmas.

We had no idea what was wrong with her (she had some seizures), so it was really hard to get through the holidays. Finally, on Jan 5, 2006, we found out what was wrong with her: inflammatory breast cancer that has already spread to her brain and spine. Over the next two months, Cynthia lost the use of her legs, and when she finally died on March 1, 2006, she could barely move her head.

While Cynthia was sick, our great aunt Louise, the last of my maternal grandmother's siblings died. Shortly after Cynthia passed, I found out a friend of mine was dying of cancer...she passed about two weeks after Cynthia. I wanted to see her, but I couldn't...I just couldn't bear it.

I thought I was going to die when Cynthia died...the pain felt like I was dying. I had to fly down to LA from Oakland to see Cynthia, and towards the end, I started having panic attacks so severe that I could not fly. I was planning to drive down the day after she died, and I did...after I got the phone call the night before. A friend was kind enough to drive me from Oakland to my family's home in Los Angeles. I think I cried the entire way, and that's six hours of crying. I never really "got over it" until something happened that forced me into the present.

I got diagnosed with breast cancer on Nov 13th. So far, so good. I've had the lumpectomy and now I'm awaiting the pathology report. The good news is that I don't have the rare, deadly form of breast cancer my sister had. And you know the challenging news already. so once again, the holiday season will be melancholy for my family.

Last year, we all flew to Atlanta for Christmas: me, my mom, my older sister, her son (her other son and daughter live there), and my two nieces...my sister Cynthia's daughters. We were pampered and loved by our extended family, and it turned out to be wonderful holiday.

I will be 49 years old on Christmas eve, and even with this diagnosis, I am thankful. Grief cost me at least a year of my life, and though I know it is a process (one that never really "ends"), I also know that it is unhealthy to stay in dark places too long. This year we won't get together. I told my family that we need to have faith that I will be here next year, and then we will have a big celebration: my 50th birthday.

During my time in dark places, I would tell myself that my sister would not want me to stay there...and she wouldn't. She was strong and positive and a fighter to the end. She defied all the medical predictions about how she would not be able to get in a special wheelchair (she did) and how she would be out of her mind from the brain tumor (she wasn't). She faced her situation head-on, and fought to her last breath. She was still asking about treatment the day she died! Her final words to me haunted me in a bad way for a long time. She asked me: "What's wrong?" the last time I saw her. Now, I think she was sending me a message.

I have a great example to follow in dealing with my own battle: my precious friend and sister Cynthia. And my father before her.
Cynthia was in the room when Dad passed, not knowing what was ahead for her just four months later. She told me what a beautiful experience it was, and I am glad she had that experience to help her on her journey.

Well, we now know what's wrong with me now , Cynthia, and I know you are watching over me.

If you find yourself in those dark places, know that it all a part of the process. This is a cliche that happens to be true: time does heal. It's not that time makes you forget or "get over it," but time does ease the pain of living with loss. Trust me...I know.

With love,
Karen

[pecwae]

1. ((Karen))

Holidays are hard and you've been through so very much. It seems we get bombarded with unrelenting enforced cheer messages this time of year.

Working through the sorrow of losing your beloved Cynthia and father has taken a great amount of courage and reflection on your part. It does take time and I like to say that although time mightn't heal the wounds, it does soften the edges. Since losing my son on November 10, 1998 I've been dealing with the grief.

Thank you for sharing a bit of Cynthia, your father and yourself with us.

From a fellow 3 time cancer survivor,

:hug:

[noiretextatique]

3. thanks...i've been reading through the cancer suppost group

(((pecwae))) so i know a little about your story. i am so sorry about your son. i can't begin to imagine what losing a child is like :hug:
'bombarded with unrelenting cheer'...that about sums it up! i am grateful for many things, but i'm not exactly cheery.
i am a survivor too, and i am very thankful to find so many fellow survivors here.
be well...that's my focus now too.

[noiretextatique]

2. i should add this about IBC

when Cynthia was diagnosed, i joined an online support group for inflammatory breast cancer. i met some women who are battling this disease, and one woman in particular who is a 10 year survivor. she is an absolute angel. she called Cynthia while she was in the hospital, and she wanted to come to her memorial service, but she had to work. she gave us a referral to the doctor who saved her life, and we did get a consultation with the doctor, but it was just too late for Cynthia.
I contacted this woman (who is a nurse) and told her about my situation. like many women dealing with breast cancer, she is very knowledgeable, and she offered to review my pathology report.
there are so many angels like her who helped me advocate for my sister, and so many other angels who helped me deal with the grief. and again, there are many angels helping me now.
regardless of my experience, i know that there are women who survive IBC, so i wanted to set the record straight about that.

[RevCheesehead]

4. Wow.

You've been through so much in such a short period of time, and I'm so very, very sorry for the losses that you've experienced.

If I'm reading between the lines correctly, it sounds like Cynthia is asking you to celebrate LIFE this year. Hers, yours, your father's, and your whole family's. It also sounds like you've found your way. I pray that this Christmas will be a very special one for you and your loved ones. And those who have passed WILL be there, celebrating with you.

Peace to you. :hug:

[noiretextatique]

5. thanks, Rev

and the same to you...enjoy and celebrate :hug: