That dreaded “C” word – Terry’s story
As October comes to an end, I would like to dedicate my eternal love and appreciation to my mom and all the women and men (yes men do get breast cancer too), who suffer through this unforgiving illness.
By Terry Mutuku and Essie Wambui >>>>>
Many types of cancers have snatched the lives of people close to us and around us: breast cancer, colon cancer, ovarian cancer, prostate cancer, testicular cancer, and blood cancers including lymphoma & leukemia. It seems like there is always someone going through surgery, radiation, chemotherapy or a combination of these. Some get well and live full lives, others need ongoing treatment, while many lose the battle to cancer.
In line with their vision of creating a future without cancer, the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation has labeled October the ‘Breast Cancer Awareness Month’ – 31 days dedicated to building breast cancer awareness and to pay tribute to those affected by this disease.
If there ever was a thing we immigrants agree on, it’s that we prefer not to get a bad news call from our home country. But this is life, which means that good and bad news come hand in hand.
When a bad news call comes, regardless of the cause and despite the distance, you are immediately joined with the family, sharing the drain on everything from your psyche to emotions and none the least finances.
The paradox of distance becomes unarguably clear. While you’re removed from the physical strain of dealing with the day-to-day complications of the problem or disease (travelling to treatment, hospital lines & stays, physical toll on the sick relative), you are at the same time denied the emotional support that comes from being in close physical proximity to others facing the same problem.
If you or anyone close to you has ever had a cancer diagnosis, you’ll understand better how tremendously life changes from then on and connect with Wakenya Canada contributor Terry Mutuku’s story.
Kenyans in the Diasporas were elated in August to read that Kenya will soon have its first comprehensive cancer diagnostic and treatment hospital. Tesla Cancer Hospital, set to open in 2017, is projected to increase the capacity to offer treatment to thousands in Kenya as well as from other East and Central African countries.
Let us celebrate this achievement while pushing for many more such centres to be built all across Kenya.
Terry’s Story
The late Alice Mutuku, Terry’s mom.
Living overseas, away from family and friends is never easy. No matter how well you may be doing, there is always that urge and desire to stay connected and, when possible, travel back home to touch base with our origins, re-connect, and refresh with family and friends.
It’s a wonderful thing these days that we are vastly connected thanks to social media – WhatsApp, SMS, Facebooking, na kadhalika!
Back in the day, not too long ago, landline phone calls and letters were essentially the only way we stayed connected.
I was a student in Rome a few years ago and I remember clearly and fondly the deep connection and gratification I felt each time I called my family or received a letter from them.
It was expensive to call often but I made sure to call at least every other week. At times I would just call randomly whenever I felt sad, alone and detached. Other times I would call when I had a gut feeling that all was not well with the family or that a loved one was facing a challenge.
In October 2001, on a Saturday night, I remember having that sick feeling in my gut that something was wrong. I was awake and restless most of the night. The following morning, I called home, just to find out if everyone was okay.
When my dad picked up the phone, I could tell that something was odd. He didn’t sound as excited as he always was to hear my voice. I insisted that something was wrong and urged him to tell me the truth. After a long silence, he broke the news.
“We are all fine except for mom. She has a small swelling on her breast that has been bothering her.” He said.
He went on to tell me that mom was seriously ill. She had just been diagnosed with breast cancer, at advanced stage, too late to be treated let alone survive. I was devastated and helpless as there was nothing much I could do from thousands of kilometres away. All I did was pray daily that she would fight to live and hold on for me till I flew back home three months later.
Together with my family, friends, neighbours and our church community, we journeyed with her, supported her and filled her with hope as she struggled on. In the end, she succumbed to the battle and passed away in March 2002, at just 52 years of age!
The Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation (CBCF) is one of a number of organizations that spearhead the fight against the various cancers.
Working towards their vision of creating a future without breast cancer, the (CBCF) works collaboratively to fund, support, and advocate for relevant and innovative breast cancer research; meaningful education and awareness programs; early diagnosis and effective treatment; and a positive quality of life for those living with breast cancer.
As October comes to an end, I would like to dedicate my eternal love and appreciation to my mom and all the women and men (yes men do get breast cancer too), who suffer through this unforgiving illness. Let us support them financially, remember them in prayer and hope that someday soon, all the people in the world will be able to access the treatment and services they need to fight cancer.
Story by Terry Mutuku. Introduction by Essie Wambui <Twitter@westesita>
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