The Battle
It’s not always nice or easy to talk about someone’s fight with cancer. It can be depressing, but I think it is an important chapter in her life to bring up as it shows how truly strong and positive my mum was and how hard she fought. I remember when my mum was first being diagnosed and the doctor said that she had to go for two tests. Knowing how much mum feared and hated hospitals and doctors’ offices, I asked if it was possible to have those two tests on the same day so that she would only have to come in once. If I had only known… As things went on and treatment started, I lost count around the 75th trip. In the end, if you count MRIs, CTs, PET scans, x-rays, ultrasounds, biopsies, blood tests, radiation, chemotherapy, surgeries, ENT visits, oncologist’s visits, ophthalmologist visits, and days spent in emergency, intensive or acute care in hospital, it was easily several hundred.
Her diagnosis, in October of 2013, was parotid carcinoma, a rare cancer that had started in the salivary gland. Unfortunately, there was no easy fix for this one. Mum didn’t like anyone worrying about her so she kept the news to only a few people. My dad and I would take her over town for all of her appointments. At first those trips were very hard. I know my mum was nervous and scared, but she would always put on a brave face. As the trips went on and her fight got stronger, those feelings all went away and it was a time to joke about what kind of bad news or test she would have to put up with that day (or maybe how strong the doctor’s cologne would be). One time to keep her spirits up, as a joke I put a driver’s tip jar on my dashboard. Now my mum was always a good tipper, but I don’t think I ever found a dime in that cup… we all got a good laugh though.
Initial radiation treatments were positive. The tumor was shrinking, some of the effects of the cancer were reversing, and things were going well. Unfortunately, those good results didn’t last, as the cancer came back. This time mum endured multiple rounds and types of chemotherapy, each one harder and harder on her body.
I wasn’t really sure if I should take pictures of the times she was getting treatment or laying in intensive care covered in tubes and monitors. They are hard to look at, but I am glad I did. They are a reminder of what she went through, how resilient she was, what kind of fighter she was, and most importantly how she was able to bounce back from most of it.
Well mum, no more radiation, chemo, MRIs, CTs, x-rays, ultrasounds, or biopsies. No more canes, walkers, or wheel chairs. No more visits to the oncologist, or hospitals. No more breathing or feeding tubes, needles, steroids, pills or other medications… No hospital bed and no more 3-hour repositioning in the middle of the night. You are finally free of all of this.
When you left us, you did it perfectly. You fought so hard over the past years that I didn’t want to be the one that made the decision when to end your struggle. I didn’t want to be the one to cut off your food or dose you up with extra pain killers, and luckily for me I didn’t. You knew that you had given us time to come to the fact that you would be leaving us and time to prepare to be without you. The morning you passed away you weren’t in any pain, you were so peaceful, and you picked a time that Mark, Dad, and I were all there so we could comfort you in your final hours. There were no doctors or nurses, just close family who reassured you that everyone loved you so much and that we appreciated everything you have done for us. I can’t thank you enough for that mum – it’s been so hard losing you, in fact I am tearing up just writing this, but it’s easier knowing you tried right to the end and you will be better off now than in the shell that you were left with.
Hopefully you are with your dad again. You are able to walk, talk, see, and more importantly, eat again. Hopefully you are able to do the things you used to enjoy so much. You can look down on us and see the results of what an awesome job you did while you were here, and we will always do our best to make you proud. For me, when I start to get sad and miss that you are no longer here with us, I remind myself of all the struggles you had and how you no longer have to put up with them, and that puts my mind at ease. After that, I can think of all of the good times we had together, and I don’t get so down.
Mum was the keystone of our family. She held us all together, take her away and we would all crumble. She knew that, and that’s why I think she was so strong and fought for so long. She waited so that there was time to design, engineer, and construct a suitable support so that when she was taken away, we were all still able to function on our own without her. Now granted, we had to use some rusty angle iron and some bolts from the shipyard to keep us together and strong, but when she was finally taken away, we did not come crashing down. It’s definitely not as pretty as it was when she was here, and there will always be something missing, but we will hold up pretty well.
We don’t know how to thank all of the nurses, doctors, specialists, and support staff who helped Gwen along the way. To all of the people at the BC Cancer Agency, Vancouver General Hospital, Surrey Memorial Hospital, and Lions Gate Hospital – thank you so much for your hard work. Thank you too to the North Vancouver City Fire Department and BC EHS. We also have to give an extra special thanks to all of the staff from the Coastal Health North Shore South Team. The nurses and care-aids that came to help Gwen allowed her to stay comfortably at home during her final months. We saw you guys so much, you were like family.
Cancer is a terrible disease. To those of you fighting it, please win the battle for those who tried but couldn't. To those of you who have fought it off victoriously - you are truly heroes and congratulations on your achievement. To those who are working on a cure, we hope that in some part Gwen's death wasn't in vain and that something was learned from this. We are all hopeful that we are all the closer to treatments or possibly cures that can rid us of this awful disease forever. Please keep doing the good work you are doing and know that you are doing it so that other families won't have to experience what we have.