Taken Too Soon
One day, my mom, Connie Brinkworth, was Christmas shopping at one of her favorite shoppes, the next, she was told she has 6 to 9 months to live. In 2012, she was diagnosed with Gliablastoma Multiforme and had surgery to remove the tumor located in her left occipital lobe. I moved back home with my two little girls to take care of her during her radiation and chemotherapy. Then seven months later, I moved back for good to help her with daily life. She had a good summer in 2013, with the tumor slowing in growth. However, in October, it was back, bigger than ever. She had another surgery and was never herself after that. My mother and best friend spent the last five months yelling at me, sobbing at the drop of a hat, and sitting every single day in her rocking chair. Her speech and movement on her right side slowly disintegrated. Then, on March 3, my two little girls, husband, and I watched my mom suffer a stroke. It is still one of the most disturbing things I’ve ever witnessed. A trip to the ER determined that my mom’s tumor was bleeding and she was dying right in front of us. She was paralyzed and couldn’t speak the last week of her life, although I know deep down, she understood everything. What a horrible way to die. To know what’s going on but to be a prisoner in your own body. She was the most loving and compassionate woman I had ever known and I was incredibly blessed to call her my mother. She was first diagnosed at 67, and passed away 15 months later at 69, which is way too young in my opinion. She was robbed of her retirement and watching her grandchildren grow up. All because of brain cancer.