On November before Thanksgiving, my mom found out that she had a nodule on the left side of her thyroid. When she told me, my initial reaction was "Okay, no worries. It's just a nodule. Not a big chance of that becoming cancerous." I had a feeling this was not true however. It was cancerous.
On Dec. 21, my mom got the left side of her thyroid removed because of thyroid cancer. While she and my dad spent the night at the hospital, I was at home with my sisters and my best friend. The surgery had gone well, but all that was going through my head was the fact that my mom had thyroid cancer. I never thought that anyone in my family would have to utter the "C word." It just wasn't possible because my mom is one of the healthiest people I know. She took care of herself, but maybe not as much as she could have.
There's a saying about how the worst things happen to the best people. My mom is one of them. She has always gone out of her way to help people. If anyone needed anything, she was there; she still is. It hurts sometimes, to know that one of the people you have always looked up to was beaten down with cancer. Yes, it's thyroid cancer, but it's still cancer. People said to her, "It's okay. Thyroid cancer is one of the best cancers to have." I am guilty of saying so myself, but it's still cancer. It is still cancer because I see how sad my mom is now. It is still cancer because my mom is taking a leave of absence from her highly stressful job. It is still cancer because I see how drained she is from using her energy to do things around the house or take a walk. She only got half of her thyroid removed, but it is still cancer.
It wasn't easy seeing my mom in her state when she came back from the hospital. Two months later, it still isn't. She looks okay, but emotionally she isn't. I've been telling her for the past few months that everything is okay and it will stay okay. Part of what she is feeling is psychological and she just needs to trick her mind into thinking that all is well, and there is no chance of the cancer returning to the right side of her thyroid. No matter what I tell her, I know deep down that she's just not okay.
My mom asks me sometimes why I never cried or showed any signs that I was upset. I always did. She just didn't know it. I felt like crying in front of her would bring her mood down even more, so I never did. I would always cry at night, on my bed, in my room. I have to be strong for her because she has always portrayed herself as a strong woman. She has always been my inspiration because of her work ethic and her personality.
The past couple of months have been hard, but things have started looking up. My mom's leave of absence from work has led to her taking walks, relaxing, and occasionally having lunch with me in between my college classes. She has a new meaning in life: to do something more valuable rather than work at a stressful, high-paying job. To her, happiness is related to benefiting the community, and she simply wants to be happy. I support her and want her to be content.
I wish nothing but the best for my mom and best friend.
