“Just be nice to Cecily, okay?”
He said, “I'm always nice to Cecily,” which, I have to admit, is true.
Dear Diary,
YAY ! Cecily got to talk to her dad! Mom talked to him too. Cecily's mom was still too “out of it” to get on the phone. I don't know if that means she was groggy from pain pills or from anesthesia. (It makes you go into a deep fake sleep.)
When Cecily got to talk to her dad, she had tears in her eyes again. But they were the happy kind. She seems really relieved.
I am too.
Dad and Matt went out to get Dutch sandwiches and raisin rolls, so Mom invited Cecily and me into her room. She patted the bed, and Cecily and I sat down. I thought Mom was going to deal out a game of Concentration, but she said that since it was just us girls, it was a good opportunity to talk. “Cecily, your mom's doing great,” Mom said. “And your dad asked me to help answer any questions you have. Okay?”
Cecily said she doesn't completely understand what's going on, and it would help if Mom explained everything from the start.
So Mom began. She said that after Cecily's mom found that little lump in her breast, she made a doctor's appointment and an x-ray appointment, and then a doctor used a needle to take out a tiny piece of the lump and test it. Unfortunately, the test showed that she had cancer. Fortunately, the cancer had not spread. The doctors even checked her armpits (P.U.!) and all around but the cancer seemed to be contained in one place. (Mom didn't say P.U., of course—I threw that in.)
What Mom did say was that many women who have breast cancer ask the doctors to cut out just the lump. Then the women usually have treatments (like radiation, which is light beams, or chemotherapy, which is chemicals) to make sure no cancer gets left behind.
Since Cecily's mom's mom had also had breast cancer, Cecily's mom and the different doctors decided that in her case, the best way to get rid of the cancer would be to take away the breast once and for all. That's called a mastectomy, and it's not what everybody decides to do, but it's what Cecily's mom decided to do.
Cecily winced like she'd been pinched and Momsaid, “I know this is hard to hear, but your mom is a strong woman, and the surgery was successful.”
Mom also said that Cecily's mom wanted to get the whole thing over with. “She'll still get check-ups—all women do—but chances are excellent that the cancer is completely gone. She got rid of it. Your dad said the surgery went very well and it looks like she won't even need any extra treatments. Just bed rest.”
“Can kids get breast cancer?” I asked.
“No,” Mom said.
“What about the new breast?” Cecily asked. I was glad she could talk to my mom. I even felt proud of my mom for being the easy-to-talk-to kind.
“Different doctors built a matching new breast right on her,” Mom said. “Once she's all healed up, no one will even know what she went through.”
Cecily asked, “Do you think it hurt?” Tears spilled out of her eyes.
Mom hugged her and said, “The doctors gave your mom painkillers.”
Then Cecily asked, “Where did they get the extra skin for the new breast?”
“From your mother's own tummy,” Mom said. “So she didn't just have breast surgery—she had a tummy tuck too!”
“She wasn't fat,” I said.
“Not at all,” Mom agreed. “She's always looked great and she always will. She'll probably look the same as ever.”
I wonder if that could be true.
“I'm glad the operation is over—the take-away part and the build-on part,” Cecily said. “You really think my mom is going to be okay?”
“I really think so,” Mom said, and gave her another hug.
I way dying to ask, “Are you sure you are okay?” but decided it would be more sensitive to ask later.
Besides, by then, Dad and Matt had come back with the sandwiches and a bottle of water for the kids and a bottle of wine for the grown-ups.
Well, we were all B.P.s (oink oink) and we ate every
He said, “I'm always nice to Cecily,” which, I have to admit, is true.
Dear Diary,
YAY ! Cecily got to talk to her dad! Mom talked to him too. Cecily's mom was still too “out of it” to get on the phone. I don't know if that means she was groggy from pain pills or from anesthesia. (It makes you go into a deep fake sleep.)
When Cecily got to talk to her dad, she had tears in her eyes again. But they were the happy kind. She seems really relieved.
I am too.
Dad and Matt went out to get Dutch sandwiches and raisin rolls, so Mom invited Cecily and me into her room. She patted the bed, and Cecily and I sat down. I thought Mom was going to deal out a game of Concentration, but she said that since it was just us girls, it was a good opportunity to talk. “Cecily, your mom's doing great,” Mom said. “And your dad asked me to help answer any questions you have. Okay?”
Cecily said she doesn't completely understand what's going on, and it would help if Mom explained everything from the start.
So Mom began. She said that after Cecily's mom found that little lump in her breast, she made a doctor's appointment and an x-ray appointment, and then a doctor used a needle to take out a tiny piece of the lump and test it. Unfortunately, the test showed that she had cancer. Fortunately, the cancer had not spread. The doctors even checked her armpits (P.U.!) and all around but the cancer seemed to be contained in one place. (Mom didn't say P.U., of course—I threw that in.)
What Mom did say was that many women who have breast cancer ask the doctors to cut out just the lump. Then the women usually have treatments (like radiation, which is light beams, or chemotherapy, which is chemicals) to make sure no cancer gets left behind.
Since Cecily's mom's mom had also had breast cancer, Cecily's mom and the different doctors decided that in her case, the best way to get rid of the cancer would be to take away the breast once and for all. That's called a mastectomy, and it's not what everybody decides to do, but it's what Cecily's mom decided to do.
Cecily winced like she'd been pinched and Momsaid, “I know this is hard to hear, but your mom is a strong woman, and the surgery was successful.”
Mom also said that Cecily's mom wanted to get the whole thing over with. “She'll still get check-ups—all women do—but chances are excellent that the cancer is completely gone. She got rid of it. Your dad said the surgery went very well and it looks like she won't even need any extra treatments. Just bed rest.”
“Can kids get breast cancer?” I asked.
“No,” Mom said.
“What about the new breast?” Cecily asked. I was glad she could talk to my mom. I even felt proud of my mom for being the easy-to-talk-to kind.
“Different doctors built a matching new breast right on her,” Mom said. “Once she's all healed up, no one will even know what she went through.”
Cecily asked, “Do you think it hurt?” Tears spilled out of her eyes.
Mom hugged her and said, “The doctors gave your mom painkillers.”
Then Cecily asked, “Where did they get the extra skin for the new breast?”
“From your mother's own tummy,” Mom said. “So she didn't just have breast surgery—she had a tummy tuck too!”
“She wasn't fat,” I said.
“Not at all,” Mom agreed. “She's always looked great and she always will. She'll probably look the same as ever.”
I wonder if that could be true.
“I'm glad the operation is over—the take-away part and the build-on part,” Cecily said. “You really think my mom is going to be okay?”
“I really think so,” Mom said, and gave her another hug.
I way dying to ask, “Are you sure you are okay?” but decided it would be more sensitive to ask later.
Besides, by then, Dad and Matt had come back with the sandwiches and a bottle of water for the kids and a bottle of wine for the grown-ups.
Well, we were all B.P.s (oink oink) and we ate every
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