It’s news no one ever wants to hear. I found out last night on my way to my final beekeepers class that my mom has breast cancer. Her mother died from breast cancer a few days before my sister was born. I know my mom has always feared getting breast cancer because of watching her mother battle and eventually lose her life to it. But, it’s 2014, not 1986 and there have been vast improvements to cancer treatments in the past 28 years. Still, it’s scary. The doctor’s want to start chemo right away. I know she fears losing her hair, losing her breasts, the pain and the scarring. I fear it too. My mom met with the oncologist this afternoon to learn about her treatment options and prognosis. I spoke to my sister last night and she is planning on coming home this weekend, assuming my mom wants visitors. My sister also wants to talk to me about the impact our mom’s diagnosis has on our own health. Having a grandmother who had breast cancer slightly increases our chances of getting breast cancer. Having a mother with breast cancer significantly increases the odds. Having both a maternal grandmother and mother with breast cancer sounds the alarm bells. We will need to begin getting mammograms much earlier than the “regular” population. We could even decide to do something drastic, like get preventative mastectomies rather than run the risk of breast cancer. There are other things we need to worry about too. My sister brought up the fact that their insurance might not cover all the costs of the medication and treatments. And I said we should remember to try to help ease the stress load for our dad as well as our mom because Dad has been dealing with his parents’ health issues for a few years and now has Mom to worry about. I know a lot of the responsibilities will fall to me because I am the oldest and I live much closer than my sister. Technically my brother lives closer to the farm, but we can’t count on him to do much, so it will be me. My mom is proud and she has never been one to just sit on her laurels. I remember one summer when she had neck surgery (to take bone from her hip and fuse it into her neck due to disk degeneration) and not long after that a hysterectomy. She was supposed to relax and recuperate. Instead she was tending to her flower garden, cleaning the house and cooking. One night she insisted I take her to the mall. We walked nearly the whole length and were headed back when she began to weeble-wobble because her hip was hurting her. She refused to sit and let me bring the car around to the closest exit, she insisted she could walk all the way back. So, I know it will be a battle to get her to heed the doctor’s instructions to take it easy and I know she will not be calling for help. We are preparing for battle, gearing up for what could be a very nasty fight – as long as she is willing to fight, we will fight alongside her. That’s all there is to it.
In addition to getting the bad news from my mother, this afternoon the CHOR case worker and county case worker came over to my house for a visit and planning meeting. The kid has been on pins and needles about this meeting, assuring me it meant they were moving him and soon. I reiterated that we did not know what their plans for were and we should not worry so much about the things we cannot control (said the pot to the kettle). The CHOR case worker last week promised that the county was still looking for a more permanent solution for the kid, to which I pondered just how hard it was to find a suitable home for a teenage boy. I know he doesn’t want to leave and I also know I was up-front with him, explaining that this was just a temporary solution. But, I know how he feels. It’s easy to get lulled into complacency and not want that to change. Life ain’t easy kid, hate to be the one to have to tell you. Ok, in reality I’m not so callous and I surely wouldn’t talk to him like that and in reality, he doesn’t need a wake-up call to the cruel whimsy of life. The county case worker asked the time frame on how quickly she needed to find a home (after explaining all the things she already tried) and the CHOR case worker said she was told if a placement came in for me, they would request the kid be moved the same day. Yikes bikes! I think the kid went to the bathroom to hide his tears and I don't think I could have felt like more of a heartless, selfish bitch. In reality, I've been waiting nearly 6 months without getting a placement so why they think something's going to pop up in the next several days/weeks is beyond me. After they left, the kid came over and leaned on my shoulder, facing away from me. I felt him take a deep breath and whisper, "I don't want to leave." I patted his shoulder and rubbed his back. I said the only thing I could, "I know. I'm sorry." If I were him, I'm sure I would feel so unwanted. A few minutes after our embrace the kid turned to me and said, "You know it's hard. It's like I want to stay but I also want you to have a baby like you want." That's a lot of maturity for a kid his age. Bless his sweet little heart. I told him I wished for the same thing - that I could both get a baby and keep him. And I've never felt so wretchedly narcissistic in my entire life.
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