So I went home last weekend to gather information on my mom’s cancer, give her an interview, and take pictures. It was interesting asking my mom questions about going through breast cancer, and how it has changed her life, or what she thought about it when she was diagnosed. Automatically my sister and I compared it to my Dad’s cancer, with this whole “oh shit here we go again” attitude. Yet, my mom said that thought didn’t even come to mind. It wasn’t like she connected her cancer to my Dad’s at all, no, she said it was much more a personal thing for her. I asked her what it feels like now to be a survivor, and she cringed at the word. She said I hate that concept, “I don’t want to be placed in the “survivor” cancer group.” She talked about having read a lot of information on how people who pretend that they never had cancer have a better survival rate with no relapse. My mom has always been this very aloof individual, nothing gets her down, and if so it is for a brief moment before she cracks jokes about it, or throws a bye bye boobies party before her mastectomy, and then it is under the rug forever. Really, besides the scars on her chest, you would never know my mom had cancer–she would carry on with either a chip on her shoulder, or a gold survival medal, she’d rather just ignore it all together.
This really got me thinking, because to be completely honest, I feel exactly the same way. I asked her these cancer questions with extreme sensitivity because I wanted to be careful not to bring up any emotions or tread on delicate territory, but my mom is as casual about it as talking about directions or gardening. I realized that I am the same way about both of their experiences; I mean, we have been talking about it for six fucking years. It gets to a point where you just want it to go away, and pretend it never happened. Every time I start dating, or gain a new friend, it’s like I inevitably have to tell them why it’s just mom, and everyone offers these empathetic eyes when I'M TOTALLY FINE. I’m in college, I had two parents that loved each other, I have a roof over my head, and clothes on my back. LIFE IS AND HAS ALWAYS BEEN GOOD TO ME. I mean don’t get me wrong, a sad thing happened to my family, but sad things happen to everybody. I’m over it. It’s like cancer this, cancer that, I fucking hate cancer. I just don’t want to talk about it anymore. Yet, it will always be there, and don’t get me wrong cancer has changed my life, my entire families lives, but we’ve moved on. There is no reason to dwell, and in that sense I totally get my Mom. I’m sick of talking about it, and I didn’t even go through it. I guess it is because I have dealt with it that I don’t necessarily feel so sad anymore, or all my sadness over it is used up, I guess. Every now and then I’ll get emotional, it's weird trying to make sense of something that doesn’t really make sense, so all you can do is get the hell over it.
I guess it depends on my mood too, sometimes I am emotional, and this unexpected feeling of anger and loss can sneak up on you. That will last a couple of days before you're like fuck this, it’s over. My Mom said some lady left a message on her phone saying that her daughter had just been diagnosed with breast cancer, and she wants my mom to talk to her. My mom doesn’t think the girl will like what she has to say, “Get over it, move on, get treatment, and pretend you don’t have it,” she hasn’t called her back and doesn’t want to. I understand.
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