March of 2012 started off like any other month. I was home from school on spring break, ready to kick back and relax with my family. However, the feeling was short lived. One night, my mom and I sat down and started talking like we always did when I came home, and she told me the news. Earlier that year, she had been diagnosed with Ovarian Cancer.
Now, my mom did not make a big deal about her illness, but we all knew this situation could end catastrophically. Ovarian Cancer is one of the most prevalent killers of women of all ages who are diagnosed with it. My family had no idea what to do, or what was going to happen. The doctor was hopeful, but could not promise anything seeing as she was diagnosed as being in a later stage of the disease.
Hearing that the cancer had already progressed so much, my family was in shock. However, not once did my mom think she would die. Her bravery was apparent.
“Don’t worry, we will beat this,” she said. Easter that year was the last time my mom had hair because she started chemotherapy soon after.
When she lost her hair, her coworkers bought her a wig. At first she was unsure about wearing it. “It’s itchy and uncomfortable”, she said with disgust, and the way in which she said it made us all laugh. She decided not to use it in the beginning, and chose instead to wear a hat with a big bill, the kind that is used to protect one’s face from the sun.
One day, my mom and I were school shopping, and decided to look for a suit for me. After seeing my mom, and recognizing her condition, the first thing the dressing room attendant said to her was, “Can I get you a seat?” My mom politely declined the offer, but they got it for her anyway.
My mom did not want to be treated as if she was dying. The next time we went out she wore the wig. It looked so realistic that when she had it on, no one asked to help her or treated her differently. We all liked this peace and quiet.
Less than a year, eight treatments and a surgery later, the doctor congratulated my mom. She was cancer free.
This cancer really scared my family, but we all made sure to be supportive. At one point, my mom was on the brink of death, but she did not ever give up. She would wake up every morning feeling tired and ill, but still made it to work, even when she was getting her chemo.
This I believe to be courage. I look back at this experience every day, and at my mom, and see what courage truly is. Courage is looking death right in the face like my mom did and saying,
“No, I’m not ready to give up,” even when the odds are against you.