Julie B.’s Story
It all begins with an idea.
Back in 2002, I was only four years old when my mom was diagnosed with a brain cancer tumor. Fortunately, the tumor was operable and majority of it was removed shortly after its diagnosis. It would be a long road to recovery, but not an impossible mission. Although that moment in our lives seemed incomparable to all else, my family and I had no idea the journey we were just beginning to embark on.
For the next decade and a half, my mother would undergo yearly CT scans, MRIs, and radiation treatment for the remaining cancer cells. Those years included minor exacerbations of the brain cancer tumor and even a bout of breast cancer; but this all proved to be the calm leading to the next storm. In 2018, my mother experienced increased debilitating pain in her lower right leg. Imaging showed a cancer mass the size of a golf ball had made a home inside of my mother’s leg. The mere size and crushing pressure of the cancer mass resulted in a fracture and would later be diagnosed as sarcoma—a type of cancer that originates in the bones or connective tissue. My mother underwent surgery, and due to the nature of the sarcoma, metal rods for reinforcement were necessary for her to be able to walk again. The surgery was a success and all seemed well, however, a few months later, my mother developed an insidious infection that required her to undergo multiple surgeries at the same site, that would leave her with a rather unpleasant scar, reminding her every day of the pain from the horrors of her cancer tumors.
Furthermore, providers were worried about the sarcoma spreading to other parts of her body, especially her lungs. Unfortunately, the cancer tumor did just that. In 2019, my mom was diagnosed with a lung cancer tumor that would place her on chemotherapy, stripping her of her crown, and forcing her to retire. The cancer was rather unresponsive to the chemotherapy, requiring surgery for its removal that would take a portion of my mother’s lung with it. Not only was the chemotherapy ineffective, it had a sinister side effect—ototoxicity. Ototoxicity refers to an agent being toxic to the ear, causing temporary or permanent hearing loss. Sadly, this particular chemotherapy agent has left my mother with permanent hearing loss— requiring her to wear hearing aids for the rest of her life. Nevertheless, the surgery was a success and my mother experienced minimal complications. Unfortunately, a follow-up appointment scheduled a few months later would diagnosis my mother with yet another lung cancer tumor—this time, closer to the heart. The nature of this tumor proved to be quite complex and inoperable, warranting chemotherapy as the safest method for treatment. I drafted this letter on Sunday, 4/26/20, while my mother fought restlessly in the hospital with the aid of antibiotics, chemotherapy, and oxygen. Over 300mL of fluid surrounding the cancer tumor was found in her right lung, causing concern for cardiac and respiratory failure. I took this time hone in on the shared collection of positivity and resiliency my family and I possess. We were fighting a challenging battle, but I was confident we would win the war.
On 4/28/20, my mother was discharged from the hospital. The COVID-19 pandemic made visiting my mother in the hospital nearly impossible, leaving the family feeling empty, and my mother—alone, so her discharge was nothing short of exciting. With great gratitude I express that my mother’s last moments on this Earth were spent in the comfort of her own home, surrounded by her soulmate and their son. Although not physically present, I had the joy of speaking with my mother over the phone for a short while on the day she returned home. At the time, I didn’t know how much I would cherish that conversation, as it would be the last time I would speak to my mother. The conversation was filled with joy, love, and hope— the very qualities my mother embodied all throughout her journey.
On 4/29/20 as the morning air faded, my mother was called home to be with the Lord. We will always feel a void within our hearts, but we know that she is resting peacefully, no longer worrying about the woes of tomorrow. My mother leaves to celebrate her life and legacy, a faithful and hardworking husband; a higher functioning autistic son, overcoming obstacles professionals said he never would; and a daughter who is a registered nurse, in graduate school, seeking to pursue a masters in honor of her mother. The last two years of my mother’s illness proved to be emotionally and financially taxing. My mother was in and out of work after her surgery and treatment, until she was forced to retire. My father was left as the sole provider but had to take FMLA to care for her. The numerous drives back and forth to Miami, along with medical copays adding up to hundreds, even thousands of dollars placed a significant strain on my family. This is the "why" behind the Julie B. Foundation. We seek to help families that may have a similar story. We seek to brighten the lives and instill hope in our battling cancer warriors. May God continue to watch over us all.
