Before Cancer

Our mother, Frieda Silverman, was a loving, caring person with a positive spirit.  She had a wonderful laugh, which everyone knew – she found laughter in everything.  Even after she knew about the cancer, she managed to find laughter at different times.  She was loved by all – her family, friends, teacher colleagues, library staff, her students and their parents.  She was in touch with one of her former kindergarten students, Gabriel , who through the years continued to correspond with my mom.  Gabriel dedicated her masters thesis to my mom – her kindergarten teacher.  It impressed me so – out of all her teachers she honored my mother.  My mother was truly a wonderful teacher and had such an impact on so many lives.

Yet once my mom found out she had cancer – it seemed to me that a part of her that died – the mindless joy was taken away from her- knowing that her life would  be shortened and the unknown of what was yet to come.  She didn’t want to suffer.  She didn’t want to feel pain.

The Fear and Anguish of Discovery

It was on a Sunday afternoon in June when my mom received that fateful phone call that would change her destiny and life forevermore.   My sister, Sandra and I were visiting my mom.  We were sitting in the kitchen when the phone rang and her primary care doctor, Dr. Weissberg, phoned her.  It was unusual to receive a phone call, just like that, on a Sunday afternoon from her doctor so we felt alarmed.  The phone was put on the speaker – it was easier for my mom to hear that way.  He told her that he received the results from the gastroenterologist from her colonscopy.

He noticed in the screening that the bottom of her lungs appeared and in the right lung there seemed to be a black mass that he said looked suspicious.  He told her he wanted her to see a lung specialist and have a biopsy taken.  We were shocked at the news and taken aback.  It scared us – my mother most of all.  We had just lost our dad to prostate cancer the previous year and the memories of it all, and the great loss, was still fresh in our minds.

I was impressed that her primary care doctor took immediate action and phoned her.  My mother didn’t hear from her gastroenterologist until a couple of weeks later.  This is a poor reflection on him.  It was his responsibility, his test to review. He was negligent.   Both my sister and I knew, from that point on, that we would never leave our mother alone – that we would accompany her to all her doctors and be there for her.  If one of us couldn’t be there, for one reason or another, the other one would.

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We still prayed and hoped that the results of the biopsy would not be cancer.  We were so scared.

The next step was to take our mother to a lung specialist.  My sister was present with my mom in his office, as he explained her situation.  I was told to wait in the waiting room since my mother didn’t want too many people in his office.  I reluctantly waited for them.   He informed her that she needed to have thoracentesis test done  -  a long needle would be injected into her back, which penetrated into her right lung in order to withdraw the fluid surrounding the black mass (tumor).   This test would tell us if the cancer spread, if not surgery was a possible option to remove the tumor.

The test was scary – my mother hates needles.  She never let her dentist give her novacaine for the pain – she had to get laughing gas all the time.  My poor, scared mom – she put on a such a brave front.  I was petrified.  I sat with her as the procedure was implemented.  It undoubtedly hurt – putting a long needle into the back was scary.  I couldn’t imagine how it felt.  The end results determined that cancer cells were present in the fluid, which meant the cancer had spread and that surgery was not an option.

How could it be?  My mom seemed healthy.  There was nothing out of the ordinary.  She felt fine – so how could she have cancer.   Lung cancer – we all believed – comes from smoking.  My mom didn’t smoke, except over 60 years ago, just a little in her 20’s, but she was considered a non-smoker.  It didn’t seem real.  As we later learned, my mother had the non-small cell lung cancer, a genetic mutation, which non-smokers can get.  In fact, this cancer is common among women, especially non-smokers.

Everything happened so fast.   All from one phone call……in one to two weeks  our mother had a biopsy, CAT scan, MRI, thoracentesis – all confirmed the diagnosis.  Cancer.  She didn’t deserve it.  No one deserves such an illness.  She had so much life ahead of her.  She was just coming out of mourning my dad, adjusting to life as a widow.  It was unfair.   I just knew I had to be strong in front of my mother but inside I was devastated.  I cried behind closed doors.   It was all surreal – a bad dream.  It was unimaginable.  We just lost our dad and now our mom was faced with the unknown.  My mom also lost her dear mother, Bertha, to colon cancer – and saw her suffer.  My dear, beloved grandmother, Bertha, she was such a good and wonderful person – a kind and loving soul.  She never harmed a fly.  Why do good people have to suffer so?

We had to be positive.  We needed to have hope.   What else could we do?

My sister and I wanted to take our mother on a trip to Italy.  My mother never had seen Italy and we wanted her to get away and have fun – especially after all she went through with my dad.  My mother was anxious to see an oncologist and then determine what to do.  The trip was never to come.