Breast cancer, a cancer most common to women although men are not spared to it. My idea of breast cancer is not as thorough as the ones who had it.
My diabetic mother has been complaining of sharp back pain since November 2008. Her doctor prescribed Tramadol to relieve the pain. It was not effective because she could still feel the pain.
Since November 2008, boils pop out of her skin one after the other. They say diabetics are prone to boil attack. One of her boils popped out on her right breast. She hid it to us. Last Saturday, I saw it and it looked awful. There was no blood or pus around it but it looked disfigured. It looked more like a cyst to me.
From what my father and I could remember, we saw a black bruise on the same spot where the boil appeared. That was five months earlier before she knew she was diabetic.
Last Saturday, the doctor saw the boil/cyst and suspected that it was not a simple boil/cyst. My mother would have to undergo a minor operation to remove the cyst for biopsy.
Sharp back pain, confused mind, memory loss, loss of appetite—could she be suffering from breast cancer? Why did she have to hide the cyst from us if she knew about it earlier?
Thinking about the worst possibility about her health make me cry. She’s just turned 56 last April 17. My youngest brother has yet to turn 18 on June. My mother has yet to see my unborn child. I have so much plans for her retirement. I cried a lot last night. I thought of how short our life is. I thought of how little she has, if not deprived, in terms of material satisfaction. But what makes me keep going is the superflous support of her friends; true friends who are there for us. I realize, my mother’s wealth is not something material; it’s beyond what money can buy. After all, the things that matter most are the things that money can’t buy.
Will she wear a pink ribbon? Will she still be with us on the next five years? Will she survive? I hope so. And I pray.