I was fifteen and getting ready for my winter holidays. Mid term exams were over and my thoughts were on holiday parties, a few days at a friend’s cottage and an ex-boyfriend who was going to be in town over the holidays. I still had a crush on him and was hoping that I would bump into him. What would I wear? What would I say?
Unknown to me, while I was planning for the holiday season, my sister Cathy was diagnosed with breast cancer and told that she needed to have her right breast removed. I don’t remember actually being told that Cathy had breast cancer though I know the conversation happened. I remember thinking immediately afterwards, how do I tell my friends? What do I tell them? I had never met anyone with cancer and didn’t know what to expect. The internet didn’t exist and there were no books. I had no where to turn. My winter holiday plans came to a crashing halt and everything I thought was important changed. It was like our family was in slow motion and yet everything was happening so quickly. On Boxing Day, Cathy had a mastectomy, and chemotherapy followed soon afterwards. My parents focused all of their energy on helping my sister and I helped were I could by watching my nephew. My high school friends meant everything to me and I knew that I was lucky to have a few really special friends; the kind of friends you would do anything for and who stuck by you no matter what. We shared everything from the clothes in our closet to the most intimate details of our lives. I could tell them everything and anything. But I couldn’t tell them this! I never told them about Cathy, her mastectomy or chemotherapy. I didn’t know how!
My close friends did eventually find out about my sister’s battle with breast cancer simply by being around my family. Cancer was never a taboo topic in our house and would come up naturally in our conversations. Cancer was a part of our lives. I was relieved/glad when my friends found out because they became my support system. While my family and I were focused on Cathy, my friends were focused on me, how I was feeling and what this meant to my own health. In retrospect, I wish I had told them earlier. Despite the openness within our family I still felt sheltered. It seemed like the entire family was trying to protect each other from their own fears and sadness, something I’ve learned can be quite common. It was in the rare moments when my mother or father would open up that I truly felt part of what was happening. I remember one winter evening my father and I were on our way to watch a hockey game at the local arena. We had just left the house, my father was driving and it was already dark outside. The conversation turned to Cathy. For the first time ever he shared with me how sad he felt and how worried he was for my sister and mother. Or the time my mother told me that an x-ray showed a spot on Cathy’s liver. We would have to wait for further results but my mother was afraid that this would be the beginning of the end. We held each other and cried. I wish we had more of these moments. It was a release to cry and share our fears and sadness. It showed me that it was okay to cry and that we didn’t always have to act like everything was okay. They validated my own feelings even when I didn’t quite understand them. These moments with my parents also meant that they trusted me and my maturity. I felt like an equal. Like an adult.
I miss Cathy and think of her often. She was always smiling and would tell me she was okay when ever I would ask. I remember her strength and determination to beat cancer. I also recognize that she was protecting me much in the same way I try to protect my kids and nieces and nephews from my own battle with breast cancer.The difference is that we know a lot more about breast cancer, prevention and the treatments which have come a long way from when my sister was first diagnosed. I want my children and nieces and nephews to know the choices available to them in reducing their own risk. I encourage questions and answer them honestly. I want them to know that even though I am scared, I am okay.
Written by Brenda Verma, the creator and editor of a survivor driven magazine entitled ‘Thrive’ due out in 2007. It was started to support the Breast Cancer Community. For more information please contact Brenda at thrivemagazine[at]hotmail.com. Share your story with others who’ve been there too. Visit www.willow.org, click on the Storytelling Circle and get immediate access to others postings from girls just like you.
