Today’s brand new post is over at Huffington Post. You can click here to read it: The Hardest Conversation.
This piece is about the conversation I had with Paige after my diagnosis in October of Stage 4 breast cancer. As the oldest of my three children, she has many questions that the younger children don’t. I wrote the piece back in October but kept it to myself.
I waited until I felt she was ready to read it and give her approval before I published it. I would not publish a piece like this without her permission. She said, “You should publish that, Mama.” I think she knows it might help someone else. We both hope it will.
I’ll be back with an update in a day or two. I’m back on an increased dose of chemo this week and did try switching to the new bone=strengthening drug.
Thanks for all of your comments, emails, and support!
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I never had this kind of conversation with my mother. She told us the details as she had them or we asked, but not like this. In retrospect i wish I had made more trips down to NY when she was dealing with all teh doctors and such. I never did, and she and I both lsot out.
Thank you for both of you for sharing this very special moment. I will ask my daughter to read it.
She is now 16yrs, and we had lots of wonderfull moments since my diagnosis early 2009, but particularly since last year when I found out about the invasive stage IV, the return of chemo and all what comes with it.
Presently in the waiting game to know if it is still working enough to continue or if we start something else and all the scare of this unknown part coming.
Being pro-active and in the medical field helps, but sharing with others in the same situation is still the best medicine.
My dauther is very gratefull that we can enjoy every moments together. She also took me by surprise when she told me at a moment of lonelyness “you won’t be alone, I will be there to look over you”.
Thinking of you, and hoping that everything will go ok!
Suzanne
Thank you for the gift of that conversation! You do help us to cope and plan and hope
Meg
My neighbor is in the hospital right now. She will come home tomorrow and start with hospice. Her battle is nearing it’s end and I cry for her 2 children still in elementary school. Thank you for giving us this today. I don’t know what conversations are happening at my neighbor’s house because her children are younger, but I am glad you were able to talk to your daughter. I am glad your daughter gave you strength. A year ago I didn’t know what “Metastatic Cancer” really meant. I am glad you are here to write and share. Thank you.
Thank you for this raw and emotional post. My daughter is 22 years old and doesn’t want to leave my side even though she is 14-hours away in graduate school. My only positive hope in this horrific journey is she comes out of it more compassionate, more loving and more grateful for how I contributed to her life. She is truly the gem in my life and I KNOW I will be perched on her shoulder every step of her way when I am gone.
That conversation was a gift to both you and your daughter and am sure it will be cherished. I was so touched by your words.
Wow. I am amazed at your strength. I send you hugs.