My mother was 66 when she first noticed the rash around her nipple. She went to the doctors religiously for her mammograms and pap tests. In fact, at this time, her last one had been six months ago, and came back fine. So she had no fear when she went to her doctor this time, just curious. He gave her antibiotics, and told her to come back in a week if it hadn't cleared up.
Well, it didn't clear up, and upon further examination and testing she was told the grim news. She had what is called "Inflammatory Breast Cancer." The rash was the only indication of anything being wrong. No lumps, no pain, her mammogram only showed slight clouds where the cancer was hidden. If this was a routine test, a doctor might have missed it.
After the doctor had removed my mother's left breast, the one which appeared to have all the cancer, he said to me, "I think I got it all, it's hard to tell with no lump to focus on. It's like trying to darn a sock in the dark."
Three month's later her other breast was removed. She went for chemo treatments three days a week. For a woman who had never been in a hospital except for childbirth, this was very unsettling to all of us. But she always kept her thoughts positive. I don't know how. I cried after every visit with her in the hospital, which was becoming more frequent. Anytime a bug was around, my mother got it, which sent her back to the hospital.
I spent six weeks with her. My Dad was doing a wonderful job of taking care of her, but he needed a break. By now she had been battling the cancer for three years.
I had never seen a woman's body after a mastectomy. I tried not to show my shock when I helped dress her one day. My heart was filled with love and admiration for her. The devastation of this horrible disease scared me like nothing had before. I also learned enormous admiration for all that my Dad had to do for her every day.
Two months after my six-week visit, my mother was free of pain. She died on Christmas day, 1995, my birthday.
One year later, I had a needle biopsy done on my left breast. When I was told that I had a lump, I went into a complete panic. I cried hysterically right in front of my doctor. I was still not over my mother's death, I said to the doctor, and now you hit me with this? Fortunately, mine turned out to be benign.
I will never skip a mammo test. If my mother had not gone to the doctor because of a small rash, she wouldn't have been with us for as long as she was. With all the improvements that have been made since then, who knows, she might have still been alive.
"Sunny506" is a member of the ThirdAge community.
The views expressed are those of the author and do not represent medical advice or the views of ThirdAge Media.
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One in eight women will be diagnosed with breast cancer in her lifetime. The ThirdAge We Care Campaign tells how you can help make a difference.
