When you get a tattoo, especially in a visible place, it’s a part of the unspoken contract that people are going to ask you a ton of questions about it. The most common one, along with, “Did it hurt?” (I don’t even know why this is a question), is, “Why did you get it?” or, "What does it mean?" A lot of the time, tattoos have a very specific, personal meaning that either takes too long to tell someone about in a casual conversation, or isn’t something that people want to talk about, especially in public or with someone who isn’t a close friend. I decided to write this article to address that question in the best way that I can, in full, because I normally give a rushed answer when people ask me in person, and it’s awkward.
This is my tattoo, above. The first thing that’s important to me is that they’re exact measurements. With my arm at rest, the first band is exactly an inch thick, the first space is a ½ inch thick, each of the two bands are 400mm, and the second space is ¼ inch. Measurements of all kinds have always fascinated me -- the different measurements we use and that humans have used over time -- and I’m a little bit obsessive with things being exact, so it was important that they were even.
The main meaning, though, relates to my mom. Through her life, my mom has dealt with a lot of illnesses and health issues. The first, thickest band represents polycystic kidney disease (PKD). It’s a disease that my mother has had from birth, and one that I have a 50 percent chance of sharing, which is why I chose to make it thicker. It essentially slowly kills your kidneys over time. Currently, there isn’t any cure or treatment beyond dialysis, where you are hooked up to a machine for hours at a time and the machine filters out your blood for you and then pumps it back into you, or a kidney transplant, which can take years on the wait list.
The second band represents cancer. My mother was diagnosed with cancer at age 20. It was a really “standard” bout of cancer: a lot of crying, pain, and chemotherapy. My mom lost her thick black hair, and though she beat cancer (five and a half years ago), it wasn’t a fairy-tale ending where we all became closer and happier as a family. Things were really rough during, and after.
The third band represents Fabry’s disease, another rare genetic condition that is cureless. Fabry’s has a huge range of symptoms, but the worst ones include affected kidney functions, and extreme pain in the extremities due to damaged nerve endings. It’s affected her for her entire life.
For a lot of the time growing up, I was a caretaker for my mom when she was really sick. I often stayed home from school to take care of her, or drove her to and from the dialysis center, and other similar things. Watching her fight through hurdle after hurdle and continue to live without giving up, even when giving up was exactly what she wanted to do, is the greatest and most powerful thing I’ve ever witnessed. My tattoo is intended to be a reminder and representation of strength, perseverance, and fighting when there isn’t much left to give. It’s a reminder that my mom pushed through every obstacle to be a great mother to me and my siblings. I felt that this was the best possible way to honor my mom and her fight against everything the world has thrown at her.
I love you mom.
