It's interesting to see how my life and mom's have lined up. About 2 months before I was diagnosed, mom was told to come back in six months. As I was finishing up chemo, she went in for that follow up, which was part of a long drawn out evenutal diagnosis process for her. In the middle of radiation, she got her formal diagnosis, and joined me in the land of breast cancer. We had a two week break between the end of my treatment and her surgery which was the start of hers.
Today was the first day I traveled for business since before I got sick, and today was the day she started her chemo. Perhaps some of why the timing has lined up as it has was to show her that life will go on. It just does. Sometimes it seems like things will never feel normal again, but today for me they did, with the exception of the fact that my mother was in getting her infusion.
I guess that's the way cancer works. There are 2.5 million women who have faced this disease and are living in some stage beyond their diagnosis. Some are 30 years past it and probably never give it a second thought. Some are newbies walking around obsessing on it. I look forward to the day when both mom and I are "past" it and can just enjoy life again without looking through cancer colored glasses.
It's not a journey I ever would have picked to share with anyone, selfishly because I never wanted to go through it, and unselfishly because I never wanted to see someone I love suffer. But we don't always pick our paths. Sometimes the road winds off in ways we didn't expect, but follow it we must, keeping faith that it's where we are meant to be. Mom and I have shared some fun moments in cancer solidarity. What can we do but make the best of it.