The first problem that I faced when I learned that I had breast cancer was in telling my children. I felt the tumor a couple of weeks ago and immediately realized that this was my destiny. I left my bedroom and headed to see my children. I was bewildered and preoccupied, but my concern for them prompted me to hold myself together.
I have three children: Abdullah, who is in his first intermediate grade; Isra’a, who is in her fourth grade; and Suzan, a university student who is not my biological daughter but is my husband’s child from an earlier marriage.
Suzan decided to stay with her siblings and me even after I separated from their father. My children are the essential part of my life and I worry about them a lot. I know that many people don’t agree with the way I have handled this situation, but the concept of upbringing children is influenced by different beliefs and every mother has her own way of handling her children.
I have followed my own convictions in raising my children. Most importantly, I don’t lie to them and I try sharing with them facts because children nowadays are exposed to everything through television and Internet. So I preferred to tell them about my illness myself instead of having them hear it from other people which might frighten them.
When I felt the tumor I called my children and asked them to sit around me. I told them that a friend of mine, who lives in the US, discovered that she has breast cancer and didn’t know how to tell her children. So I asked them what they thought I should do.
Abdullah asked whether cancer was a serious illness and Suzan confirmed it to be. Abdullah then said that it might be frightening for the children to know but the mother needs to tell them. Likewise, Isra’a said the children are going to see their mother in pain and for them to help ease her pain they must be told. Suzan said honesty was the best solution in dealing with problems. At the end of the conversation I smiled and didn’t proceed further.
That was my way of giving the sad news step by step. In the evening, I told my daughter Suzan about the possibility of myself having tests the next day. I also added that I needed to see her strong, faithful character that would help me through the crisis. The love and fear she expressed are the fruits of my bringing her up ever since she was a little child. I thanked God for that.
The diagnosis the next day was crystal clear. When my children returned from school I told them that I had met a relative whose children they were friends with. I took this as an opportunity to prepare them further for the bad news. I told them about the relative’s husband who has been suffering from sickness for many years now and that his wife and children had been very positive. This was just another story about people whom they knew.
That evening I had to share with them the news because time was running out and the doctors were undertaking tests. I told them that I was going to visit the doctor because I didn’t feel well and that I felt a tumor in my breast.
Later at night when I came back Abdullah asked me what the doctor had said. I told him that the doctor had to take part of the tumor for examination; he remained quiet as he listened. Then he said, “Could it be cancer, Mother?”
His question was direct and specific and I had to deal with him as a grown man. I told him that it might be but we wouldn’t know until the doctor examines the tumor. After that we had a regular conversation about school and studies.
My God, time was rushing and my treatment was about to start. I will be admitted to hospital either for surgery or chemotherapy and I needed to explain to my children what they were about to see and experience. I have to be their mother, teacher, psychiatrist and therapist all at once. I have to be a believer and provide my children with doses of faith.
These are very critical and difficult moments that we all live as mothers with no exception. In the hospital where I work, mothers tend to postpone their medical examinations or hospital treatment until their children finish school examinations even if that means jeopardizing their health. Mothers are always like that and I’m one of them. Yet, my situation is different and my fear greater.
I had to talk to them the next day and be more specific. I told them that the initial test results indicated that I had a benign tumor and explained to them the different kinds of cancer. I told them that there are people who live with cancer for many years and die without falling sick. I addressed Abdullah telling him that if one of his friends told him that since his mother had cancer she’s going to die he shouldn’t believe him. I told them that Allah tests people whom He loves and then rewards them in the afterlife.
Now that they know I promised myself that I would try to carry on with my life as normally as I could, I didn’t want to make a big issue out of it and there was no need to panic. This is the only way to teach my children how to be patient; they need to learn how to face a crisis. I started asking them to put their little hands on my chest and recite a prayer.
These are very difficult moments that I have had to live through in my battle with cancer. There were moments that made me define my love to them in a very different way. I used to kiss and hug them, but now I bury myself in my daughter’s hair to smell her and hug my son so he melts between my arms. Everything I do with them now has a different taste; even my kisses and the warmth of my love feel different. I’m not afraid to die, but I now realize the pleasure of having them in my life once more.
Having breast cancer is a love message that I want to tell every woman. Don’t ignore or delay early examination and look after yourself.
