The District Chronicles

Issue date: 8/30/09 Section: Cover

Media Credit: Charmese Wilson/District Chronicles

It was the summer of 2007.  I was a sophomore at Howard University. My peers and classmates were preparing for study abroad programs, internships at Fortune 500 companies and tropical vacations. I was preparing, too.  But it was a preparation for going to war alongside my mother as she battled stage four breast cancer.

A few weeks before I arrived home to Detroit from Howard, my mother discovered a growth in her underarm region. The doctor informed us that it would take at least a week before we would get a solid answer as to what was really going on, and that when the lab tests got back, he would determine the best method of removal and would call her to schedule a surgery date.

The time slowly passed but before long, I was returning from my first year at school, eager to enjoy the summer months with my best friend, my mom.

We were sitting on the living room floor watching my niece crawl back and forth when the phone rang. Henry Ford Hospital flashed across the phone's caller ID display. Mom took the call and from the reaction on her face, I knew the news couldn't be good.

The next thing I remember is the phone dropping to the floor, my mother's eyes welling up and the room moving in slow motion as the words cancer left her mouth.

The doctor had informed my mother that they had made a mistake. The harmless growth that they diagnosed as a mere boil, was in fact a cancerous tumor.

For the next months to follow, my mother would go to chemotherapy treatments twice a month. And even with an IV of poisonous liquids flowing through her body, she remained optimistic.

"I'm going to fight this," became her motto. I tried to remain hopeful, like my dad and brothers, but still at the back of my mind there were thoughts about what would happen and how things would be if mom didn't make it. How would it be to not call my mother as I walked to class, to tell her about my newest crush or to find out the latest scoop from our daily soaps? What would it be like to not have my mother in the audience as I walked across the stage to receive my college diploma or there in the delivery room as I delivered my first child?

I knew my mother was a strong woman but during this ordeal I realized that she was the strongest person that I ever knew. And while her strength and faith remained abundant, the strength of me and my family slowly diminished.

Continued...

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