Just an Ordinary Mum

Detrice Matthews - 22 Mar 16

As a young mum I often thought I was invincible.  I mean, don’t get me wrong I knew that I had my failings but I always presumed that I would live until I was grey and old.  I always imagined that I would see my grandchildren one day.  I almost took for granted my good health and my busy life.

On a normal day I struggled to keep up with everything that being a mum entailed.  I rushed around from one thing to the next, taking the children to nursery and school, rushing to work, skipping my breakfast and sometimes lunch, rushing back to collect everyone once more at the end of the day.  I put myself second and my family first, always.

That is, until one particular day when everything changed.  That morning I had managed all of the normal morning things.  A full speed nursery run, the school run and then gradually everything began to slow down almost like everything was getting stuck in slow motion.  After the school run I drove myself to The Breast Care Unit of St James hospital and I waited in the reception, trying to enjoy a moments peace (actually having time to read a magazine about random celebrities that I had never heard of).  You see, I was awaiting results for tests that I had been through the previous week.  I tried to remain calm but I was shaking. Even though I knew the answer before I was told, I was still shaking.

The lady I later learned was my breast care nurse came to greet me and asked how I was.  In the room my consultant sat there, on her day off, and looked me straight in the eye and delivered her diagnosis.

You have Invasive Ductal Carcinoma – breast cancer. Shit.

Yes I was young (32 years), yes I was healthy, yes I breastfed my babies and yet non of those thing mattered in that moment.

The next few hours were a bit of a blur, but I remember a few things.  I remember very clearly thinking ‘what are my children going to do without their mother?’ I think that was my main and only concern at that time, in that moment.  On the way home I got stuck in typical Christmas shopping traffic, and then being late to pick my little boy up from school and when I finally arrived at school he was in floods of tears, all on his own.  I’d let him down and I just wanted to sit and cry with him, but I didn’t I shook myself off and headed to pick up my little girl from nursery.

On that day, all the little things became much more important and all the stressful things became, well, insignificant.  From that day I knew that every single kiss good night or cuddle or game might become a memory and memories are important when children are growing up, they make you into the person you become.  You see the thing I found about my diagnosis was that I could handle the facts, in part because I already knew that ‘it’ was there I think, but the hardest thing about all of it was the realisation that I may not be there to see my children grow up – and that, for any mum is the real kicker.

But you know what? After one of the most difficult days of my life. Seeing my husband broken and me wandering round like my legs were stuck in treacle.  I still managed the school pick up and I still managed the tea time/ bedtime saga, adamant in my mind that the children’s routine would stay the same no matter what. Adamant that they wouldn’t pick up even a slight hint of upset or fear.

I have realised many things over the past year.  I am not invincible.  I am just an ordinary mum.  I have realised that sometimes I need to start putting myself first, and look after my own health.  I have realised that I may not ever get to meet my grandchildren and I have been taught a valuable lesson over the past few months. I now know that taking life for granted is a dangerous game.

Live life for now, create lovely memories and live colourfully where you can.

Detrice Matthews

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