Finding Peace: A Cancer Story by Kim Banks

B5media’s very own, Kim Banks of Blog Fabulous was the first to send in her story as answer to my call for personal cancer stories.

In the belief that every cancer story is different, but nevertheless a story that we can all get inspiration from (if not a lesson in life) I was able to prod Kim to tell us about hers even though writing about it is too painful.

Thanks very much Kim, for the story below, I’m sure it helped you write about it and it will help (in anyway it can) the readers who can relate to it.

Here’s to finding your peace Kim:

1984 was the most horrendous year of my life, and I’m not certain that I’ve actually gotten over some of the events of that time.

My marriage was tipping in a dangerous direction because of my work schedule. So, to help repair the damage, I agreed to take a leave of absence and move to London with my husband, so he could concentrate on his career.

And my mother died.

My mother died in January of that year; we moved to London in the Fall, so I never really had a chance to grieve among family and friends. I then found myself in a strange country, with no job, no children and really nothing to do but think about my mother’s death and our sad, sad life together as mother and daughter.

Prior to her death, we hadn’t been speaking. And without going through my entire history, I’ll tell you that she was an alcoholic…a very dangerous and demoralizing alcoholic.

Months before her death, she phoned my house in an inebriated state….screaming at me about something about my life that she did not like.

I slammed the phone down, looked up to the heavens and wished she would die. I thought “no one can possibly live for as long as she had with this level of drinking and absolute hatred of her own daughter”.

Within weeks of that incident, I received a call at my office from my brother, who told me that she was in the hospital, with Ovarian Cancer, and that she had maybe 1 week to live.

Later that week in the harshness of winter, I found myself in her hospital room, along with my 2 brothers.

I remember that even in the haze of the morphine drip and her own thoughts about dying, she was still lucid enough to articulate her disapproval of me.

Later that evening, after the nurses told us to go home, she needed rest…we received THE call. She had died.

My guilt about our relationship overtook me…I paid for a good deal of the funeral: the casket had to be oak, the flowers had to be yellow roses…because I exclaimed to everyone that I knew her best.

Fast forward to today…I spend a good deal of my thoughts lost in trying to figure out what had happened to us…why did she have me? Was I the reason for her misery-ridden life? Why did our family disintegrate?

I hope that someday I will find peace with finding peace…and that my mind clears so that I can understand just how serious her form of cancer was that I get myself checked out.

Right now, I still feel too guilty to care about my own health.

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Do you hve your own cancer story to tell? Email your story to me at gloria.g@b5media.com