Age Ain’t Noting but a Number. . .Surviving Breast Cancer at 90

Christine at 90

“Her children rise up and call her blessed.” Proverb 31:28

When you have elderly parents, you hold your breath every time the phone rings.  My sister was crying, “Mom found a lump in her breast.”  I held my breath. It was not what I expected to hear.

My mom, Christine, was 88 with a host of health issues—diabetes, hypertension, congestive heart failure, osteoporosis, and arthritis.  She had survived every known childhood illness of her time except polio. I was with her when she was medically airlifted the year before to get a pacemaker. I sighed, “Please God, not cancer.” “Please God, not my mommy.”

My sister put my mom on speaker phone. “I was doing my monthly breast exam and I found a lump in my left breast,”  she said.  Wait, she still does monthly breast self-exam? I don’t even do it regularly.

I said, “Mom, your breasts are old and they are probably just lumpy. It’s probably nothing.”  Silence on the other end of the phone.  “I know my body and I have a lump in my breast,” she said emphatically.  “I’ve already called my doctor for an appointment.”  OK, that’s self-advocacy.

The mammogram confirmed that she had a lump, and the biopsy confirmed that it was cancerous. I tried to be brave but I was anxious and did not sleep well.  One of my mom’s younger sister, Eren, had died of complications of breast cancer a few years ago.  Aunt Eren fought breast cancer and the cancer fought harder.  It went into remission and came back stronger and she died slowly over several months.

A conference call with the doctor told us that mom had Stage 0 breast cancer.  He was so proud that she was still doing monthly breast exams and had caught it very early.  Even though she demanded that both breasts be removed, he reassured her that only the affected breast needed to be removed.

My mom was not having any pity party.  She shot down all her elderly friends that told her not to have surgery because “once they cut you open the cancer will spread.”  Nope. She did not want to hear it. She said, “Either pray for me or leave me alone.”

I flew home to be with her for the surgery.  My oldest brother (yes, he is her favorite even though she denies it) sat in his car in the hospital parking lot. My older brother paced the floor, and my sister fielded phone calls in the waiting room.

I went into the pre-op room to say goodbye to my mom’s breast.  We were all breastfed, but as the baby of the family, I thought it was my duty to officially say goodbye to the breast that had fed me for 9 months.  I kissed the breast and thanked it for nurturing me and my siblings. My mom rubbed my head and reassured me that she would be OK.

My mom has survived breast cancer for two years.  She had an excellent checkup last week and is doing great. She will celebrate her 91st birthday in December.

Please share your experience in the comment section of this blog. Or you can join the conversation on the Keep It Tight Sisters Facebook Group.

Reflections

Are you doing monthly self-breast exams? If not, why not?

Keep It Tight Sisters.

Eat. Move. Breathe.


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