By Pauline Masson:
Some of us wish the campaign had started much sooner.
I lost my sister Kathleen Matthis to breast cancer in 1989. She was 55 years old and had never had a mammogram when she discovered that she had breast cancer.
She was watching a television interview with actress Jill Ireland, who was campaigning to educate women about how breast cancer could sneak up on a person.
Ms. Ireland said she had never had a mammogram before her diagnosis. She went to see her doctor after experiencing a slight burning under her arm.
A light bulb turned on. Kathleen had never had a mammogram. And for some time she had been aware of a slight burning sensation under her arm.
She made an appointment with the doctor, who ordered a mammogram. She had a mass in her breast that was already in metastasis.
She didn’t know that immediately. She had to have a biopsy, which they did without anesthesia. It was incredibly painful and Kathleen though it was the worst thing she had ever experienced. She was angry and hurt. Why should she have to experience such pain.
Kathleen was the oldest and the prettiest of five sisters. We were all tow-headed youngsters, but for Kathleen and Pat, the second youngest sister, their hair stayed light blonde into their thirties. Kathleen was one of the most vain persons I ever met. She went to the beauty parlor twice a week. Her dry-cleaning bill was higher than her groceries. She ironed her tee shirts.
When she had an emergency appendectomy at age 35 and a kindly doctor decided to do her a favor and remove a small brown mole between her upper lip and cheek, which everybody called her beauty mark. She was devastated. She actually grieved.
She was so proper and polite in her language I used to say, “She wouldn’t say spit if she had a mouthful.”
She liked so many things, was always engrossed in a book or crossword puzzle. She loved all sorts of card games. She had a group of friends, who never seemed to see enough of her. She spent time with them every single day and they showed up at all our family events. I called them her groupies.
They seemed to live in her hospital room after her surgery, clinging to her every word, rubbing her hands and face with cream, holding a glass so she could drink through a straw. Finally, to the chagrin of the rest of us, my sister Shirley kicked them all out.
Kathleen smiled and shook her head and said, “Shirley, Shirley, Shirley.” That was as tough as she could get to show her disapproval.
Because of metastasis doctors said a treatment of both chemotherapy and radiation would be best. She smiled and grasped at the promise that doctors gave her.
When she started to lose her hair due to chemo, she decided to shave her head. And wouldn’t you just know it, her head was so well shaped she looked beautiful even with no hair.
But things got tougher. When she experienced extreme and unrelenting nausea from the chemo she told her husband Robert that she wanted a separation. She was completely serious. She couldn’t bear for him or their son Robbie to see her ‘like that.’ Robert tried to reassure her that appearance was not a consideration at that time but she was never convinced. She locked the bathroom door so no one could see her retch.
The doctor offered a prescription for medical marijuana to ease the nausea. She rejected it outright. “I am not going to become a drug addict,” she said.
The rest of us were blown away by that. Here she was dying of cancer but was not about do to anything as unseemly as become a drug addict.
She went through a brave fight for three years, never missing a visit to the dry cleaners or the beauty parlor when her still beautiful hair grew back. In her next to last year, she moved into my house in Robertsville because she did not want me to be alone when my husband was in the last days of lung cancer. For several months, Robert and Robbie had to visit here there. After my husband’s death she went back home in High Ridge. She died in October 13, 1989. And there is not a day that goes by that I don’t miss her endless search for perfectness.
Her daughter Jackie experienced breast cancer but thanks to breast cancer awareness it was detected early. She had surgery and is now cancer free.
In the interest of full disclosure, I should report that Debbie Kelley, Pacific city collector reminded me of the important of October as breast cancer awareness month. Debbie has just undergone a battle with breast cancer. She is now cancer free. And for the month of October she has the city hall collector’s office decorated with reminders of breast cancer awareness.
So please be aware that breast cancer is a killer that can be a silent predator. Through self-exams, mammograms, modern treatment and support there are 3.8 million breast cancer survivors in the United States. In case the worst thing happens, please make sure you are one more survivor.
What a touching and relatable piece. Thanks for sharing something immensely personal with us. Perhaps, with a little help from your wonderful writing talent, your sister and her story will save a life. In doing so, her legacy quietly lives on.. in the good deeds done by those hearts and minds who may never have been born without her story’s impact on some readers in our little town.
Sorry for your loss. Beautifully written article.
Thank you for sharing such a personal story with us. I was indeed moved beyond words as I held on to each word. Thank God for a life well lived by your sister in spite of the cancer. As a cancer survivor myself (prostate) diagnosed in 2010 elevated P.S.A. .114 the cancer they thought had metastasized to the bone considering a healthy P.S.A. is under .4 I only had radiation therapy last year. Amazingly I experienced no residual effects from the radiation last year. The hormonal injections I received twice a year beginning in 2010 in the stomach was sufficient to bring the numbers down. My P.S.A. today is 0.02 I too want to remind African American males over age 40 to get screened for prostate cancer. We are 1.6 higher risk to develop this cancer and twice at risk to die from it.