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It's Not Her Fault

"It's my fault." ~My Mother


I thought about my mother a lot this week as we head toward Mother's Day. I'm glad that she isn't alive to experience this pandemic. I know she would be afraid of catching COVID-19 even though she rarely went anywhere after she stopped driving. She'd also be crazy with worry about my current situation.


If she were alive today, my mother would blame herself for the the fact that I have breast cancer. No matter what bad—real or perceived—thing happened to me, she always blamed herself. When I had to have a c-section, she apologized to me for causing it because she had had me by c-section. When I had to have a hysterectomy some years later, she cried because she had made me go for a walk and it somehow caused the endometriosis that, in turn, precipitated the hysterectomy. God love her.


I miss my mom, nutso as she was at times. She had two sides to her, though....maybe three or four, really. She would give you the shirt off of her back even though she had very little. She took offense over the smallest thing and then played the guilt card like no one else could. She died 14 years ago, and there are times I still think I should call her and tell her this or that. Instead, I do it in my head and hope she's good at reading my thoughts from heaven.


I'm also glad, though, that she's not here for this journey because I don't want to listen to negative stuff. If you don't think that would be the case, then you never knew my mother. I've done my best to stay positive, and I know she would be crying and blaming herself. God love her. I just can't take that right now. And, while I still think too much and stress way too much, I know I just need to move forward.


The truth is, I am doing well both physically and mentally. Oh, Ethel complains about the soreness and burning she feels all the time, but I tell her she should be quiet and just be glad she's still around. I pamper her a bit with powder, and that makes her happy for a little bit.


I am starting to look down the road. This week, I have an appointment with the medical oncologist, and nest week is my planning appointment with the radiation oncologist. I've mentioned

before that this part scares me almost as much as the monster did, but I'm trying to be at peace...and I usually succeed. I'm also at peace that there are going to be days when I don't succeed, and I just have to get through them.


I have started to look ahead to our move, too. I contacted Moffitt Cancer Center in Tampa earlier this week so that I have an oncologist when we arrive in Florida later this summer. But, that's another story for another day.


Until then, I put one foot in front of the other.



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