Cancer in Cyprus and the contribution of Pasykaf. My experiential testimony.
‘’Suffering of
cancer’’
My mother died of profuse bleeding caused by
an aggressive metastatic skin cancer.
But really,
who was this woman and how did she end watching cancer through the mirror
eating her flesh?
My mother
Theodora came from the small village of Limnia near Famagusta. The love she
felt for my father Yianni brought to the village of Deryneia where she was
fortunate enough to live with him for only 13 years. Difficult but beautiful years within which
she got 5 children.
My father died
at the age of 33 and my mom was left alone to raise her five children, with the
oldest being 11 years old girl and the youngest 2 year old boy.
So our mother
dressed in black she was carrying her mourning everywhere for years.
Dressed in
black, she worked for years in the hot summer sun to raise us. She worked as a
labourer in the fields, in construction, in asphalting roads. For some years
she had made ice cream selling it by pushing a hand truck around the village
and at some festivals.
Often on
Sundays she cooked at weddings, put roast in the oven. Lit 5-10 ovens each
time, burning herself from time to time.
Her life’s
conditions improved when she was hired to work in a restaurant and in a hotel
later.
Difficult
years but our mother managed raise us as better as she could and in a way she
believed it was the best for us according to her own capabilities and
knowledge.
Right after
she retired and she started to enjoy the rest of her life, a tiny white spot
appeared on her face.
We took her to
the doctor who removed the speckle and he assist to continue the treatment by
using some creams.
The white mark
appeared again, somewhat larger this time.
The doctor
made a small operation, removed something from the skin which it was sent for
biopsy.
Unfortunately,
either because we did not understand properly, or we did not read the biopsy or
we were not informed and guided us properly, we stayed quiet and did not ask
someone else’s opinion.
Shortly after
a tiny little tumour appeared under the skin on the lower jaw area.
That tiny
tumour started to grow bigger and became painful and according to the doctor it
should have been removed immediately.
The operation
took place in the General Hospital of Nicosia where doctors and nurses were
faultless in their work and to us.
Leaving the
hospital the necessary chemotherapy should follow that meant a daily come and
go to the hospital in Nicosia and a daily nursing supervision and care.
We found
ourselves in a difficult situation. The five children living in different areas
and each with own family and jobs.
Some people
told us of Pasykaf (The Cyprus Association of Cancer Patients and Friend). That
was a big relieve. Our salvation.
The nurse from
Pasykaf would come home every day and the bus will take our mom in Nicosia
whenever she needed it.
This offer of
Pasykaf to our mother and to us of course, lasted about a year, was with us
until she was buried.
Having the
chemotherapy our mother had somewhat weakened, but still has a good spirit
despite the operation that affected the proper function of one of her eyes and
her lower jaw.
At Easter
holidays of2012 I went home and found my mother lying. It was late afternoon
and I asked her why she lay at this time, she told me that she was feeling
tired somewhat.
I thought she
felt tired because of her illness knowing that the home work was done by her
domestic helper who she had long before.
I let her rest
and I went to my sister who lives next door.
I told her
that our mother felt tired and my sister wondered: how not to be tired after
cooking and baking all day for Easter?
Speaking with
my mother later, I told her that she did not have to do anything because in her
state she would get tired easily.
She responded
to me: I will let you celebrate Easter without any special food and pies? That
was my mother. That’s how she treated us all her life.
She Lie down
to rest for a while she said, but she never got up again. She spent Easter in
bed thru the next few months until her death.
On Easter
Monday the whole family gathered to wish her for the feast and for a speedy
recovery. At that point I realized that the beginning of the end started. The
scars on her skin grew, became holes in the body.
A few days
later she had her first profuse bleeding. Things got worse.
We decided we
had to stay with her one of us every night. To keep an eye on her and make her
feel our love and care.
We did not
want to somehow take her away from home, we couldn’t feel well to such an idea,
and it could have been the worst we could ever do to her.
Our neighbours
and relatives were by her side every day, also her friends who heard the bad
news.
We gathered
together in the evenings as often as we could.
The situation
grew worse, the cancer was insatiable, and the holes became craters on her neck
and shoulder, so deep and large that an egg could fit into them.
So unbearable
pain. There is no man who can stand it.
A strong
pungent odour emerged from the wounds, it smelled rotten flesh. This nasty
stench was getting on to me at home in Nicosia, I did not think that were the
case. I asked the nurse of Pasykaf if she withstand the stench and I was
telling her what was happening to me, yes it is true, the stench is so strong
that follows you until you get used to it.
Mom was in
serum and painkillers. Her overworked body diminished day by day.
Her psychology
had the ups and downs. Despite the pain she was at some days able to understand
what was happening around her, she could talk and had a clear mind, some days
she was like a plant, silent corpse, sad to see.
One day I
found dipped in her diarrhoea. She was wet throughout and smelled awful. I asked
her helper to bring me whatever I need for cleaning her. It was an opportunity
for me to reciprocate for what she have done for me all those years.
My mother did
not accept, she was telling me it is a shame and I answered back, were you
ashamed when you cleaned me when I was young?
I struggled
but I cleaned her. It was not the dirt that made it difficult but the image I
saw removing her clothes. She was just like a leather bag full of bones. A
living dead in the wet bed. She was only her half left.
On the days
when I went to see her or to stay with her at night, because the house was full
of people, we sat outside and she could not listen to us when we spoke. But
whenever I was leaving she kept asking my siblings what I was telling them. I
think she did this because she knew how straight I was on my words and perhaps
by asking she could find out the real truth about her situation.
She could not
sleep at night, she had intolerable pain and would not let my siblings to sleep
when staying with her. She never did such a thing to me, every time I stayed
with her before going to bed I was telling her it was time to sleep and we
should sleep quietly and indeed that’s what did.
In the morning
I would put her on the wheelchair and pushed her around the neighbourhood up to
the church and back. As we passed by any house I was telling her the name of
her neighbour to have an idea where she was. When reaching the church I asked
her to pray if she wanted to.
When we got
back home I let under the shade of the trees for a while, something that she
always enjoyed all the years before. I spoke her about the life we spent
together, the good and the bad.
Reminiscent of
some of the naughty things I did in the past and laughed.
One Saturday morning
after our standard ride with the cart, we sat down again in the shadow of the
sycamore for our usual morning conversation.
That morning I
talked about the bitterness of life and for joys that came later, on trips we
made together, and for the journey of life itself, reminded her of human’s
destiny and that death is part of our life. I told her that she had not many
days to live and I asked her if she wanted me to do one last thing for her. I
asked her where she would like to be buried when dying. She told me that she
understood and that she was near the time of death and that she would like
somewhere in a shady place near the grave of my dad, uncle’s and grandfather’s.
I put her in
bed to be able to leave her.
I went to the
cemetery and looked for space with shade and close to where mom wanted.
I found a
place beneath an acacia but did not know if it was empty and available.
I went back to
mom, I sat on her bed and I described in detail the site I found. She said yes,
the place seemed good and she ask me to put the flowers on top.
I contacted
the church committee and they assured me that the place was empty. I asked them
to keep it for my mother who would be leaving soon.
When the nurse
from Pasykaf came to see my mother I asked her what was the use of the serum,
was it a medicine or just a food supplement.
The nurse told
me that the serum contains substances that the body needs, a food.
When the nurse
finished and finally came out and away from my mother for not listening to our
conversation, I asked what would occur if I remove the serum. The nurse told me
that removing the serum the body will weaken and slowly die.
So we keep the
patient alive only to suffer I replied, and asked her what would she advise us
but she refused to give me an answer.
I told her
that I would speak with my siblings to ask them to remove the serum. If they
agreed I would come the next morning to show me how to remove it.
My siblings
couldn’t decide such a thing. Being sentimental than realistic.
My mother
herself took us out of that trap, the next morning she asked the nurse to pull
out of her the serum. I don’t know if she heard me or not, this I will never
find out.
A few days
later she requested to bring the priest to confess and to make the Holy
Unction. She knew of the worst coming and she wanted to be prepared.
The last
weekend before she died I stayed with her and left Monday morning. Before I
left she asked if I would come back again the next day, I told her that I would
come Wednesday to take on trip by car. Take me to the Virgin of Kykkos she
said.
On Wednesday I
visited her as I'd promised.
Although it
was not my turn to stay with her, I was holding company of my older sister who
would stay with mom that night.
Before we
managed to fall asleep our mother shouted.
She was
writhed in bed as the blood gushed like a fountain from her neck. Blood
everywhere, pain, voices in the night.
We called an
ambulance that arrived immediately as they already knew the way after so many
times we called them before.
Bleeding was
such as being slaughter, nothing could be done.
At the
hospital I was holding her hand and looked in her eyes trying hard to
understand what she was struggling
to tell me. I couldn’t manage to read her lips to understand what the last she
wanted to tell me was. She died.
I stayed with
her helping the nurses to close her eyes and mouth, and to straighten the
lifeless skeletal body.
We buried on
Friday June 22 of 2012 in the grave I described her before for her eternal rest
in a flowery and shady place as she always wanted.
PS
Through this
testimony we should learn to protect ourselves from the sun and to see the
doctor for anything odd, weird, unusual occur in our body.
Going to the
doctor we should make sure that we understood correctly what he said.
Please read
carefully any notes you from your doctor.
Always ask for
a second opinion.
We have to
understand that life is short and money can’t buy it.
Pasykaf
performs a real pious work.
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