How I Will Honor Breast Cancer Month

This is the story of a wonderful woman, and her love and dedication to those for whom she cared. I met Heather when we were thirteen years old. Ironically, there was a pair boys, Greg and Jeremy, who were best friends. We met because she was friends with Greg, who I liked, but she had a huge crush on Jeremy, with whom I was friends. She was a petite girl, but she had a figure that was just made for a bikini, and she was pretty as she could be. We very quickly became friends, and even more quickly decided we were best friends.

We went through crushes, boyfriends and everything that has to do with being a teenager, together. We held each other when we were hurting, and we loved each other with the strength of sisters. Sure, we drove each other crazy, sometimes, and we did not always agree, but we always loved each other, and one would drop anything to help the other at a moment's notice. She stood up for me at my wedding, and she stood with me at my divorce. She loved my children, and I was able to hold her hand and coach her through labor and delivery three times. We trusted each other with our children, and we never bothered with keeping track of who had done what for whom.

Between us, we had six children. Our first three, were all within one year of each other's age. Our other three, were born in a similar time frame. We thought it was funny that our children were born in such logical order. I had one the first time, then I had two with my new husband. She had two in the first round, and she and her fiance had one, together. However, the kids have grown together, and they consider each other as much family as their mother and I always felt.

When we were twent-nine years old, Heather found a lump in her breast. This was just after she had kicked her fiance out and started attending college, which was a good thing. She called me while I was waiting to come home from the hospital after I had given birth to my youngest son. Within two weeks of that, she got the results from the biopsy, and it was cancer. Of course, she was terrrified, but I cannot help but admire her for the courage she showed as she prepared to battle this cancer with a double-mastectomy and bilateral lymphectomy and preventative chemotherapy. When lab tests were done on the lumps that were in both breasts, the doctors found that she had two different kinds of cancer, one in each side. Also, one lymph node in each armpit was found to have cancer in them. I have parents who are both in the medical field, so I knew from the beginning that she was going to have to deal with cancer for the rest of her life, and I knew how bad it was to have it spread your lymphatic system.

I cried with her when she lost her breasts, and I cried with her when she had to shave what was left of the hair on her head, which are two outward symbols of femininity. I also told her how beautiful she was without hair and no breasts. I did not even have to lie. When my daughter saw her, she shouted, "You're so CUTE!" Since eight-year-olds are not noted for their tact, her statement could be taken as her true opinion. Also, she told me on the way home that she wanted to shave her head, too. Even if Heather thought I was just being nice, which I was not, my daughter is not good lying, and Annalise knew that.

Throughout the next year, we had to watch Heather go through chemotherapy, for one type of cancer, and hormone treatments for the other. Her family and my family all tried to help her and be there for her. Eventually, she was able to stop the treatments. At that point, she began the process to have reconstruction. Her hair started growing in, and it was so soft. I loved touching her hair. She had to wear sleeves and gloves to help with the swelling from the lack of lymph nodes in her armpits to push the fluid out of her arms and hands. Heather had to have surgery to put in expanders to stretch the skin of her chest and make room for the implants. I know this was painful for her, and until she had the size that she wanted, she had to go have more fluid added to the expanders. Finally she was able to have the surgery for the implants, and they looked fantastic. Her plastic surgeon was very good. She declined the chance to have him create nipples because she was tired of surgery and hurting.

Have I mentioned that she did all of this while raising three children by herself? Everyone helped as much as they could, but she would only ask for help if it was absolutely necessary. Over several months, Heather started noticing a pain in her lower back. She had had a check up in January, and her cancer markers were really low, but when she went back in April, the cancer had come back, and it was in her bones. She was at my house watching my kids until I got home from work when she got the news. I walked into the house to find her sitting in the living room by herself talking to her oncologist. After she got off the phone, she turned to me with tears in her eyes and said, "Ginn, it's in my bones." I just held her and did my best not to dissolve into tears with her. I tried to be supportive and positive without being annoying.

Once again, here came the chemo. I think it hit everyone harder this time, since she had been doing so well after the first time. Again, everyone wanted to help, but she did not let us do that very often. All I wanted to do was take it away. I prayed for her like I have never prayed before or since. I could not imagine life without her. For twenty years, she was my best friend, my sister by choice. I prayed for her kids, too.
I know her older two children will have memories of their mothers, but her youngest son will barely remember her. I knew how bad her chances were from the start, but I could not accept the idea of her leaving us. Another thing that she had to endure was the compression fracture that was in her lower back, probably just from having such brittle bones from the cancer. She had to have cement put around her spine to help with that.

In January of the following year, we went to the hospital to see my youngest cousin and her brand-new baby girl. That was when she told me that tumors had been found in her brain, which was the reason she had been experiencing numbness on the right side of her body.She also told me that if she did not do the radiation, she would only have about three months to live. Heather would not consider not fighting it, but even if she did the radiation, she would have a year, at best. Possibly two. When she told me this, I doubled over in the parking lot of the hospital, as if I had been kicked in the stomach. She hugged me, and said, "I'm so sorry, Ginn!" She had been given very little time, yet she was more concerned with others than herself. That was just the kind of person she is.

Watching her go through radiation and chemo and watching her get weaker was the most horrible thing I ever had to do. My dad and I spoke about it, and he said, "She's just living for those kids, Ginn." I knew it, but seriously, who wants to admit and acknowledge that? One bright spot in this was the Fleetwood Mac concert that was going to be within a few hours drive. We were going to go and take our daughter, whose name is Rhiannon, plus my sisters, aunt and cousin. I asked my husband if he would mind if I got Heather a ticket. He did not mind at all. On a surprisingly chilly day in May, we drove to Tulsa, Oklahoma, and although it was so hard on her back, we had such a good time. The concert was wonderful, and when it started, Heather leaned over to me and said, "Thank you, for this." On the way home, she fell asleep stretched out across the backseat of my sport utility vehicle. She would occasionally talk in her sleep, which was not abnormal. She had done that since I had known her.

I checked on her often over the next few weeks. One Saturday, I could not get her on the phone. This was not usual. I finally went to her house, where I found her cousin, and he let me know that she had been hallucinating.To prove this, she went and grabbed a towel to dry my hair, even though it was not wet. The hallucinations got steadily worse until her family took her to the hospital. The doctors thought she had just gotten her body out of whack since she could only hold down water and her pain meds. The gave her fluids, and she seemed to be getting better.

On a Wednesday evening, I was at home, napping due to limited rest while she was in the hospital. Heather's sister called me to tell me that they had to put her on a respirator. I barely remember telling my mother-in-law what was happening as I ran out the door. I called everyone in my family on the way to the hospital, and they all came. After I arrived, I was told that Heather would not last the night. I was in and out of her room in ICU, and her family generously allowed me to be with them when the decision was made to let her go. I got to watch that wonderful, beautiful woman as her heart that loved so many, so strongly, ceased to beat.

I do not of many things that could be harder than letting her go. Honestly, I cannot imagine how I will get through my life without her. I helped make sure that her children lived with the guardians that she chose. I spend as much time as I can with them, and I am in constant contact with them. We are all going to make sure that the most important rituals will be observed, such as our yearly Halloween jaunt with all of the kids going to my family's house together.

This story is one that I want to share with others. I think Heather was a true hero, and she fought valiantly. Not once did she whine, and she showed the true meaning of beauty, dignity and grace. I am humbled and honored to have her as my best friend. I will never forget what it was like to have the kind of friend who loved me for and in spite of all my faults. She will live in my heart for the rest of my life. I will always be grateful to have known her.

I will honor breast cancer awareness for her by spreading advising self-checks for women at home, since that is how Heather found the lumps in hers. Also, I am planning to plant a tree in my backyard, in her honor. Since she was cremated, and there was no money to do anything other than the service and cremation, I would like to have a tree in our yard that will be a monument to her, and her children can be there with us. This will give them what they may need to feel as if they are visiting her, I hope. Please, remember to donate to the breast cancer and spread awareness. My best friend died at the age of thirty-three after four years of cancer. This should not happen to anyone.