The Worst Words :: Breast Cancer Dying Essays

The Worst Words The sun was shining through the open windows of the crowded, Twinkie-colored bus. The wind was blowing my hair into my face, and I could not wait to see my mommy. There were children yelling because it was Friday and school was out for the week. The excitement of the weekend was on all of the children’s minds. The bus slowed, turned into my mobile home park, and screeched to a stop. I got off the bus and ran into the arms of my mother. I remember her hair smelled like Pert Plus, and she was wearing her favorite perfume, White Shoulders. She would greet me off the bus every day. I loved to see her immediately after a long day of fifth grade. To me this was a normal day. However, to my mother, it was a scary, heartbreaking day. When we got home, she sat me down, looked at me, and said, â€Å"I need to tell you something. I don’t know if you will understand this, but, I have cancer.† Those words stick in my mind like a fly to flypaper. I remember not knowing exactly what she meant but I thought it was bad. I can still see her tears start to stream from her emerald green eyes. I have cancer. Why did my mommy have to have cancer? Whatever it was I knew I did not like it. It made her cry and made me want to fix what God had done to her. A few weeks passed by, full of testing and doctors’ visits. She had to go into the hospital for surgery one day. My dad told me that they were giving her a mastectomy. She was never going to feel adequate ever again. Only one breast will make any woman feel inadequate. I was scared and still did not fully understand what was going on. All I knew was that my mommy was not going to be home for a couple of days. It hurt not having her with me, because she had been there my whole life. My mother went in for a checkup a year after her breast cancer surgery and I went with her and my Grandma. My mother and Grandma were in the office for a couple of hours. I was scared. I read every magazine in the waiting room, waiting for them. The Worst Words :: Breast Cancer Dying Essays The Worst Words The sun was shining through the open windows of the crowded, Twinkie-colored bus. The wind was blowing my hair into my face, and I could not wait to see my mommy. There were children yelling because it was Friday and school was out for the week. The excitement of the weekend was on all of the children’s minds. The bus slowed, turned into my mobile home park, and screeched to a stop. I got off the bus and ran into the arms of my mother. I remember her hair smelled like Pert Plus, and she was wearing her favorite perfume, White Shoulders. She would greet me off the bus every day. I loved to see her immediately after a long day of fifth grade. To me this was a normal day. However, to my mother, it was a scary, heartbreaking day. When we got home, she sat me down, looked at me, and said, â€Å"I need to tell you something. I don’t know if you will understand this, but, I have cancer.† Those words stick in my mind like a fly to flypaper. I remember not knowing exactly what she meant but I thought it was bad. I can still see her tears start to stream from her emerald green eyes. I have cancer. Why did my mommy have to have cancer? Whatever it was I knew I did not like it. It made her cry and made me want to fix what God had done to her. A few weeks passed by, full of testing and doctors’ visits. She had to go into the hospital for surgery one day. My dad told me that they were giving her a mastectomy. She was never going to feel adequate ever again. Only one breast will make any woman feel inadequate. I was scared and still did not fully understand what was going on. All I knew was that my mommy was not going to be home for a couple of days. It hurt not having her with me, because she had been there my whole life. My mother went in for a checkup a year after her breast cancer surgery and I went with her and my Grandma. My mother and Grandma were in the office for a couple of hours. I was scared. I read every magazine in the waiting room, waiting for them.