With Valentine's Day come gifts of pampering and love. Scented candles, chocolates, jewelry, bath goodies and poufs! My mother loved her bathing ritual. It was her way of relaxing, so any gift along this line of thinking was welcomed - and used, not tucked away in a drawer or "Memory Box" somewhere. Each night she ran herself a lovely scented bubble bath, grabbed her pouf and delighted in the soak.
When my mother called to tell me she had been biopsied for breast cancer I was shocked. When she called to tearfully tell me the results of the test, I was angry. We had just had a conversation about mammograms! I had one earlier in the year. I remember being absolutely crass with my mom when she told me she was afraid they would hurt. "Mom, if you've ever had good sex, you can handle a mammogram". It got a little quiet on her end of the phone, but I felt maybe, just maybe my point had been made.
Still, the questioning went on, it just seemed like if I asked the right question, we could see where we went wrong, and why she was found to have a 3x4 inch tumor on the top of her left breast! I say "we" because, as every daughter knows, if your mom has breast cancer, you have become immersed into this new, frightening world of breast cancer also.
A tumor of that size, surely it couldn't have been missed on a self exam? "Mom, you felt nothing when you checked yourself?" I'll never forget her response. She told me "I don't touch myself that way." It was my turn to be speechless. "Mom, just in your nightly bath, surely you noticed a lump?" That was when my mom told me she never touched her body in the bath, she always used her pouf.
As I cleaned her bathroom after her passing, saw her collection of brightly colored pouf's, it came to me. Had she not bathed with these, she probably would've caught the lump, and lived to own another pouf.
Adrianne Hurtig
Ronan, MT
