My aunt is laying on a hospital bed in her living room in a Detroit suburb, constantly surrounded by her kids and their spouses, her husband, and her sisters. She isn't in any pain, I'm told, but has been restless awaiting the birth of her youngest daughter's first son in Chicago. A new grandson that she'll never have the chance to see, touch, or hold. A daughter that she might not have a chance to kiss one last time. Her valiant fight with breast cancer is coming to an end very soon, I'm told. And it is hard to believe that my fiesty Aunt Mary Ann will be leaving my family so very, very soon.
I have been sending email messages to my cousins trying to encourage them, making offers to help them out in any way possible. But what can I do as I sit here at my desk 3 hours away in Cleveland? There's nothing to do but sit and wait for word that it is time to come home and join the family in grieving her passing.
It is difficult to wait and not feel useful, as if you are helping out in some manner. And then my office manager in Virginia sends out a mass email to people in my firm that provides me with a solution.
It gives me a sense of purpose. . . .and then it makes me both sad and angry.
I can't give you much detail about my Aunt Mary Ann's fight with breast cancer. . . only what little I know from memory and pieced together conversations. I've never actually talked to her directly about her experience or the impact that it has had on her. The disease claimed one of her breasts, her hair several times through courses of treatments, changed her body shape, and sucked her energy. Yet, despite it all, she has been a devoted and active mother, grandmother, and community member. She has continued to host family gatherings at Christmas and 4th of July with our extremely large, and still growing, family. She has been fortunate to have the support of family and friends throughout the course of her long battle.
But let's face it, the support of friends and family will only get you so far in this type of battle to survive. You need health insurance -- and good health insurance at that. In the most recent months of her fight, my aunt has had the opportunity to try experimental treatments to attempt to prolong her life. (In the end, she chose to enjoy what quality of life she had left and forgo further treatment that left her feeling much worse in the end.)
So, as I've been sitting here waiting for more news on the health of my aunt, my office manager's email message shares the sad story of a dear co-worker's friend who is also battling breast cancer -- but without health insurance. The message requests that we consider Sally and her family this holiday season.
I'm jolted into reality. . . . Imagine what Aunt Mary Ann has had to endure and then imagine having to endure that with the stresses of piling medical bills, concerns over your ability to pay for your next treatment, along with car payments, mortgage payments, food, etc.
This woman's name is Sally Holcomb. She is fighting breast cancern. Her story on the Austin American-Statesman web site describes her back-pain, her inability to walk, her kids sacrificing going to college to stay home and help care for their mother. I think how similar and how disimilar this is to my Aunt's fight with breast cancer.
I'm sad that this woman will face a battle and, quite possibly, a death that is riddled with even more fears and stresses than those my aunt has had to face. It is senseless. It is needless.
So, until we are able to elect a president that will absolutely make universal health care (single-payer, anyone?) a reality in this country, I am going to finish this diary about my aunt's battle with breast cancer coming to a close and then I'm going to figure out how much I can donate to help Sally Holcomb in her fight.
I want to do this to honor my aunt, who I can't be with right now.
There's a wish list for Sally and her family up on the Statesman web site (look for The Holcomb Family). They want Christmas decorations and a tree, preferably white aluminum.
Update: I wanted to change the title of this diary to hopefully attract more readers because this isn't really about my aunt (although it has been a great comfort for me to write about her). It is meant to be about attracting help and support for another family that also has a mother/aunt battling breast cancer but without the luxury of health care coverage. I appreciate everyone's kind words and thoughts for my aunt. And I hope members of this community can help me show some love and support for Sally Holcomb in Austin, TX that is fighting her fight without health insurance. Thanks.