Every day I wake up and look in the morning, and I am reminded of how cancer affects me. You see I have this scar; this three inch scar that constantly reminds me why I look up to my mom, why my mom is my hero.

My mom has had problems with her thyroid for quite some time, and has actually had three surgeries because of it. I remember the first time my mom had gotten surgery, my dad had picked me up from day care; I was a happy, pink backpack carrying, four year old girl with no care in the world. I stepped into the car and knew that something was wrong; my mom wasn’t in the passenger seat of the car, which almost never happened. When I questioned my dad about it he said that she was in the hospital, and she had just been through surgery. I cried instantly, at that point I honestly didn’t know the gravity of the situation or really understand what was going on, I just knew that someone had cut open my mom, and that scared me.


Up until my mom was diagnosed with cancer which was around, September 2008, I just never thought about my mom’s constant trips to the doctor, or the number of pills she had to take, it just seemed to be a normal events in our lives. But that day when my parents had sat me down and told me my mom had medullary thyroid cancer. It all came crashing in all at once, I hadn’t realized how drastic it had gotten and I felt selfish not realizing what was going on with my own mother. After being diagnosed it was none stop trying to help my mom get better, she had been accepted into a clinical trial in Houston. She was there every month, and came home to tell us all the new medicine she had to take to help her potassium, calcium, or whatever might have been lacking in her body. It was one long, scary rollercoaster ride, not knowing how she was going to react to the medicine compared to the last month, the number of times her nose bled for three hours straight and ended up having to stay at the hospital for a number of days.

It was crazy, and it got me thinking about how I take my mom for granted sometimes, I talk back or pout when I don’t get the shirt and pair of jeans that I want because I don’t already have millions in my closet. Or how I don’t sit down and take the time to ask her how her day is going and if there is something I can do to help her as often as I should. Throughout all of this and all she had to go through she still managed to what I call, be super mom; take care of everyone else before herself. She was able to stay strong and not give up and wasn’t going to let cancer control the way that she wanted to live her life. My mom is the epitome of the saying live life to the fullest and let every second count, because no one knows what tomorrow is going to be like.

Though my mom is still battling with cancer, and is not participating in the clinical trial anymore, I have hope that one day she can be completely cancer free. I have my wonderful family and friends that help and support my family and I, but I owe my strength and courage to my mom.