Fighting Cancer: What Fund Raising Has Meant To Those That Matter Most
NOTE: This week I'm getting personal and helping my Mom raise money for Making Strides, this is part 2 of the series.
Cold. Stale. Empty. Musty. The smell is still in my nose and it never changes whether you are in Massachusetts, California or Barcelona. Hospitals just don't change. The same feelings and smells were there even when I was celebrating the birth of my two sons. Nothing can rip these senses from my collective mind nor my spirit. The very first thing I think of when I walk into a hospital is the first round my Mom fought with cancer.
It was the early 80s and I was a young kid, not capable of understanding what was happening. It was after her first surgery and my Mom was spending the night at the hospital. To this day I can remember nearly every detail in the room. But two things resonate the most strongly for me. The first was that when it was time to leave I literally hung onto the bed, not understanding in my young mind why I had to leave my Mom. It just made no sense. I probably haven't cried that hard since (well, maybe after Aaron Boone hit that home run). This same scenario played itself out, albeit under much better circumstances, when our second son was born and the older brother wailed as I walked him out of his own Mom's hospital room. Guess he's a momma's boy just like his daddy ;)
The second memory, and the one I love to think about, was how my Mom made light of the situation. She was connected to an IV that she could roll around with her and if you know my Mom she LOVES to walk. Knowing that this contraption connected to her would freak my sister and I out a bit, she actually created a personality for the IV, even a name. Sitting here I've been racking my brain trying to remember the name (let's hope my sister leaves a comment, because she has the better memory), but it made me laugh. It made us all laugh. And laughter has been part of the Flaherty household through the best of times and the very worst of times.
When my Mom called me in May to tell me about her third bout with breast cancer I was stunned. Obviously because it seemed cruel and unusual punishment for a woman who had worked so hard and was just now enjoying retirement with my Dad. But more because of how upbeat she sounded. At first I thought she was putting on a strong front so that I didn't get upset. But then I realized I was no longer seven or sixteen years old. She actually was upbeat, for the situation, and the reason was simple; the cancer fund raising we have all done over the years was making a huge impact.
The first cancer battle was nearly thirty years ago, so imagine the changes that have occurred in those three decades. Well my Mom was witnessing it first hand and actually had the ability to contrast it to so long ago. It was an incredible difference:
The Impact of Cancer Fund Raising
- The doctors understand the mental aspect of a cancer diagnosis as much as the physical. They sat down with my Mom and Dad, explained things in plain english, outlined the different scenarios and listened. This blog mainly discusses social media and we always talk about how important listening can be to our jobs. Well there is nothing more powerful than a doctor listening to you stammer out a question after a difficult diagnosis.
- The facilities consider patients as people. My Mom has raved about the Dana Farber Yawkey Center for Cancer Care since the moment she walked into the building. It's airy, light and full of love. Not to mention the amenities that cancer victims need, even considering the specific needs for people losing their hair or coming out of a double mastectomy. And, as always, humor in the t-shirts they sell, providing a quick smile for someone who might now have much to smile about.
- The care extends to the home. A nurse shows up the day after surgery to make sure all is well, answer difficult questions and lend a supporting hand.
- Research. Research. Research. This seems so obvious, right. But when you are going through chemo for the third time having the research that isn't just based on experimenting but on actual science it can make a huge difference. The second time my Mom battled she had to have chemo once a week for a year! This time around, four times, every three weeks. Sure it still sucks, but it sucks a lot less.
