Nearly a Statistic

I had brunch with my mom on Sunday since we hadn't seen each other since right before my girlfriend and I had left for the Caymans over Memorial Day weekend.  It gave us a chance to catch up on everything we've been up to in the last few weeks, and I got to tell her in more detail about everything Kim and I had done while we were away.  I also gave her the small gift I picked up for her while I was in the Caymans, and tallying up good son points are always a good thing.

(Incidentally, we had briefly talked about everything that I had talked about in my last post, but I stopped her  short of filling me in on her side of the story.  The less I knew, the better.)

While we were having brunch my mom dropped a bombshell on me: in February, my aunt went in for her normal mammogram checkup, and doctors found something abnormal in her breast.  They ran more tests, and they confirmed a malignant tumor in my aunt.  In short, she had breast cancer.

Before I go any further, here's the good news: my aunt has already met with a specialist and had surgery to remove the tumor.  The doctors caught the cancer early enough when it was only starting to show, and the surgery was fairly standard.  She's expected to make a full recovery and will be following up with her doctor for future checkups to make sure nothing comes back.

When my mom told me the bare facts before getting into all the details, my mind immediately jumped in a number of different directions.  How are her kids - my cousins - handling it?  How many people did she tell? How serious is it?  When is she meeting with a specialist?  Can surgery eliminate all the cancer?

My mom quickly filled me in on everything.  My aunt chose to only tell a few people in the family because she, understandably, didn't want to keep telling the same story and answering the same questions over and over.  Instead, she went ahead with meeting with the specialist, and once her surgery was scheduled, she told the rest of her and my mom's siblings.

Like I said, the surgery was successful and my aunt is on the road to recovery.  The truth remains that she is now a breast cancer survivor, which is the good side of the statistic.  It could have gone another direction, and I could be writing a post about how my aunt is fighting for her life right now.

Every Mother's Day, my mom and I have gotten together to go to a baseball game together.  We've had this tradition for years, and the great thing is that the weather is generally perfect for a game.  What's really awesome about Mother's Day baseball is that the players use pink bats and wear pink gloves to show support for breast cancer research.  It's a great cause, one that I am now personally invested in.  My mom and I did out regular day at Camden Yards in May, but next year we'll have a whole new reason to go and show our support.