Breast Cancer
Velma Belasco
1939-2007
In 2002, when I was in 7th grade, my pastor’s wife had passed away from breast cancer. My whole family attended the service and on the way home we got a call from my grandmother, my dad’s mom. She had just found out that she had breast cancer. She assured my dad that everything was going to be fine; she was going to get a mastectomy and start chemotherapy. When we got home we quickly realized my dad’s cousin who had been sleeping on our couch ran off with all our valuables and my parent’s brand new truck. To say the least it was a very stressful day. For the next 5 years it was treatment after treatment with my grandma, trips to Chicago, IL to the cancer treatment center and the many hospital stays. During these 5 years my aunt, my dad’s sister, was diagnosed with breast cancer as well. With the stress of constant traveling for her treatments and her daughter’s new diagnosis my grandma quickly began to decline. I spent as much time with her as possible throughout my high school years because I knew she would not be around by the time I graduated high school. I had her teach me how to sew and bake her pies that the whole family loved. She even helped me sew my own prom dresses. During the course of these five years the cancer spread to her liver, lungs, and finally to her brain. The last week of April 2007 my mom and I went over to my grandmas to help her organize her closet for the summer, but she was not making any sense. It was hard to carry on a conversation with her. The next day she was admitted to Northwest Hospital. She was there for three days where she quickly declined and became unresponsive. My dad owned a care home at the time, and was great friends with a lot of nurses in hospice. They convinced my pop to admit her into hospice home care, despite the fact that my pop believed she would pull through. The first two days of her being home I never left her house, I was there 24-7, holding her hand, emptying her urine bag, swabbing out the black tar that she was choking on, just being there with her. The night before she died she was responsive again. My sister, my cousin, and I were there that night while my pop was getting rest and she seemed more normal, talking with us and joking. She was still hard to understand but it seemed like she was all there mentally and we could communicate. But by morning she was back to her unresponsive state, and as the day went on her breathing got harder, more tar was forming, and she had no urine output for the past two days. At about 2:30 am on May 4th 2007, my grandma passed away just two weeks shy of my high school graduation. It was the hardest thing to watch them put her on the stretcher and wheel her out the front door, however, I would relive those last 3 days in a heartbeat. I remember them like they were yesterday.
Megan M.
1939-2007
In 2002, when I was in 7th grade, my pastor’s wife had passed away from breast cancer. My whole family attended the service and on the way home we got a call from my grandmother, my dad’s mom. She had just found out that she had breast cancer. She assured my dad that everything was going to be fine; she was going to get a mastectomy and start chemotherapy. When we got home we quickly realized my dad’s cousin who had been sleeping on our couch ran off with all our valuables and my parent’s brand new truck. To say the least it was a very stressful day. For the next 5 years it was treatment after treatment with my grandma, trips to Chicago, IL to the cancer treatment center and the many hospital stays. During these 5 years my aunt, my dad’s sister, was diagnosed with breast cancer as well. With the stress of constant traveling for her treatments and her daughter’s new diagnosis my grandma quickly began to decline. I spent as much time with her as possible throughout my high school years because I knew she would not be around by the time I graduated high school. I had her teach me how to sew and bake her pies that the whole family loved. She even helped me sew my own prom dresses. During the course of these five years the cancer spread to her liver, lungs, and finally to her brain. The last week of April 2007 my mom and I went over to my grandmas to help her organize her closet for the summer, but she was not making any sense. It was hard to carry on a conversation with her. The next day she was admitted to Northwest Hospital. She was there for three days where she quickly declined and became unresponsive. My dad owned a care home at the time, and was great friends with a lot of nurses in hospice. They convinced my pop to admit her into hospice home care, despite the fact that my pop believed she would pull through. The first two days of her being home I never left her house, I was there 24-7, holding her hand, emptying her urine bag, swabbing out the black tar that she was choking on, just being there with her. The night before she died she was responsive again. My sister, my cousin, and I were there that night while my pop was getting rest and she seemed more normal, talking with us and joking. She was still hard to understand but it seemed like she was all there mentally and we could communicate. But by morning she was back to her unresponsive state, and as the day went on her breathing got harder, more tar was forming, and she had no urine output for the past two days. At about 2:30 am on May 4th 2007, my grandma passed away just two weeks shy of my high school graduation. It was the hardest thing to watch them put her on the stretcher and wheel her out the front door, however, I would relive those last 3 days in a heartbeat. I remember them like they were yesterday.
Megan M.