Today's about me...

I thought that because Letitia chose to tell her story, today I would give you a look into mine.

I was born on February 9, 1978 in the Bronx. My birth mother didn't want to keep me, she was only 18, so she gave me up for adoption and on May 16 I was taken home by my parents, Rita and Tony. I had the most amazing childhood and ironically my WORST fear in the world was that my mother would die. I remember when I was young, probably 8 or 9, I was watching her get ready in the bathroom and I asked her that if she died, could she please write me a letter to let me know that she was alright...that letter never came by the way...

In February of my 9th grade year, my mom developed a rash on her breast. The doctor in his ultimate wisdom prescribed her cream for it. It wasn't until a few months later, when the rash never went away, that they did a biopsy and discovered that she had a viral form of breast cancer. So, in for surgery she went and I couldn't bring myself to visit her in the hospital. I truly didn't want to believe that it was as serious as it was and I think I was scared shitless and was a stupid teenager...etc. etc. etc. Anyway, she had her breast removed and had chemo treatments that made her SO very sick and then radiation treatments that made her SO very tired. It was a very hard couple of years.

Then she went into remission...ah, good old remission...we even took a family trip to Disney World when I was 16. Then on July 4, 1995 she had a stomach ache, went to the doctor and discovered that the cancer had traveled to her liver...the worst place that it could find...so, she went back on chemo and at Christmas break she went for a check-up and they told her that it was looking great! Phew.

However, on January 8 she got a headache that just wouldn't quit. I told her to take some Tylenol...again, stupid teenager...On January 17 she went to have it checked out fully and they admitted her into the hospital right then. They found several small brain tumors along the base of her brain, took her off chemo for the liver, put her on radiation for the brain, and she turned yellow. You see, this cancer was out to get her no matter what because Chemo doesn't travel to your brain so the cancer found the ONE place that it could live...nice right?! But then when they took her off the chemo, her liver went bad again and the cancer spread like wildfire.

Every day the diagnosis changed, she'd be coming home; she'd be coming home, but needed to be driven to work; she'd be coming home, but couldn't work; she had 3 months to live; she had 1 month to live; they had no idea what was going on; she would die before the weekend.

On the morning of Thursday, February 1 I brought in pictures of our dog for her...I really wanted to bring her to the hospital...and I asked my mom if she knew who she was and she said, "of course I do, it's Smokey." Then she had a stroke and was put on tubes and never spoke again. My father and I had already decided on a DNR so it was a waiting game. My Aunt Noel told me to say my last goodbyes, which I screamed and cried at my mother because I couldn't do anything else.

That night, as my uncles and father chatted and as I "dozed" off in the chair, I could hear her breathing slow and begin to stop. I couldn't believe that they didn't hear it too! We all got up, gathered around her and she passed away. It was the worst day of my entire life, but on the drive home with my dad, we laughed. How one does that? I don't know.

Anyway, I was 17 and turned 18 eight days later. She's been gone now for almost 13 years, which is getting dangerously close to almost as long as I was with her. I keep thinking that in 4 more years, my life will reset...it will be interesting to see.

So that's the story of my mom's passing. My Aunt Noel always says, "why did they take her, God didn't need another angel." But maybe Kiera did....who knows. I just hope she always knows how much we're all thinking of her and love her....Kiera Rita is awake...so I leave it with that for today.

Melissa