My dear readers,
So, here I am again, not bearing good news. At all.
Sadly, my mother passed-on last February. I still can't believe it.
After the chemo was over, she began to experience some abdominal pain… her CT scans showed an abdominal recidiva. The doctors chose that precise moment to tell us my mother had pretty much the worst type of ovarian cancer you can get (carcinosarcoma). It doesn't respond well to conventional treatments and can be really aggressive. So, she was scheduled for another surgery on December 19th. The surgeon (a wonderful, kind man who tried not to scare me and my sister too much) came out looking gloomy and told us the tumor was a lot bigger than they had anticipated and had not been able to remove it all because my mum went into hypovolemic shock because of all the blood she had lost during the surgery. He didn't say anything but we all knew there wasn't much hope after the partial removal of a 12 pound tumor that would just keep growing and growing and pressing into her vital organs.
She was out of the hospital by New Year's and we celebrated said holiday with her. I kept hoping some miracle cure would appear out of the blue or some unknown God would make it all right, but none of it happened. Soon after we were out of the hospital, she had an intestinal suboclussion that required another hospitalization. We were with her the whole time. Me, my sister, my family and some of her closest friends took turns, so she was never alone. Not even during the third and last hospitalization, the worst of all. She was awfully thin, her voice was changed because of the morphine and she knew she was going to die soon… she suffered an intestinal perforation that could not be treated. It was awful. After that, she went into a coma. We weren't with her when she died because the situation was just too much for us to handle, so we hired a nurse to keep her company during the night. It was unbearable, seeing my mother like that. We were there from 9 AM until around 9 PM but the thought of spending that night ALONE with her was too much. Too much.
So, after a few days, her agony ended. And here I am, trying to find my cool. I'm working at a secondary school (I teach English Lit) and carrying on with my studies. I don't know if I'd be able to finish this story. I started writing it so long ago, my life was so different… even the show was different. I hope you can forgive me and understand me.
If any of you went through something like this, I hug you from afar.
My mother was an extraordinary woman who had a rough life and she still managed to love, help and comfort others with unusual strength. But she tended to forget she was allowed to do whatever she wanted to do, regardless of the consequences. She tended to forget she was allowed to be a little selfish sometimes. My advice for everyone is LOVE EACH OTHER, and love yourselves as much as possible. Don't apologise all the time. Say what you think and to hell with it.
I just wanted to give you an update… I hope you are doing well.