A Teenagers Heartache

My Mum was diagnosed with cancer when I was 15, and then again, when I was 18. It was a very hard time in my life. As she went through chemo, I got my tattoo to show her my support. Dealing with this at such a young age was very difficult. I remember my Mum sitting me and my two siblings down to disclose that she had found a lump in her breast and that the doctors were concerned, thus had decided she needed a mammogram and biopsy. Being so young I still understood the implications of this because our family had a history of cancer within my mother’s side of the family.

We waited for the result to come through, with fingers crossed, that it was nothing serious. Our prayers were not answered. The doctors revealed they had found more lumps in her breast, and that they were indeed cancerous. I was in my last year at secondary school when this news was revealed to me. My brother was only 10 at the time and he didn’t completely understand what was going on. As you can imagine, at that age, he associated cancer with dying. I remember having to be strong for my family, especially my younger brother, who cried himself to sleep in my arms every night. I bottled my emotions up and became withdrawn. I didn’t eat. I barely slept. The weight on my shoulders was very visible to those close to me.

The Oncologist decided the best course of action would be to remove the lumps and do a breast reconstruction. My mum underwent a mastectomy at Bristol hospital. After her surgery, she spent a week in the hospital. We were only able to see her every other day. Once released she was required a minimum of two weeks bed rest to help her body heal. For what we knew, at that moment in time, was that my Mum no longer had cancer.

Two years later my Mum went for her mammogram check-up. The Oncologist noticed there was a significant amount of swelling under her arm, the same side of her body that her breast was removed. She ensured my Mum it would be nothing to worry about and that it was a routine requirement to do a biopsy. We waited patiently for the results to come through. The results left us all heart-broken once again. The cancer cells had spread to her lymph nodes and she needed immediate treatment. I couldn’t believe this was again happening. My Mum began chemotherapy on December 24, 2014. Every 3 weeks she endured hours at the hospital being pumped with the cancer killing chemicals…10 days well-10 days Ill. I had a full-time job at the time, which I gave up to be my Mum’s caretaker. I kept a diary of that period-of-time my Mum was receiving treatment. I detailed her symptoms and emotions of the days that past.

I decided I needed to show more support for her. I had already taken part in two of the Races for Life, yet I needed to take bigger action. So, I booked in my tattoo and told her she was coming with me. She held my hand while I was being inked as tears flowed in both of our eyes. I like to think that my action of support helped her through this difficult time, as it did for me.

Thankfully, my Mum is still going strong to this day.

Bethany Mahoney, Gloucester, United Kingdom

Tattoo Artist Credit:

Neil Jenkins - Niue Tatu Studio, Coleford, Gloucestershire, United Kingdom

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