A Part Of Me:

by Karin Aharon

  When Michael came back home, the kids were already in their beds but I could still hear them chatting. I went downstairs to find Michael leaning over the counter and eating Adam’s leftovers. We’d finish Rachel’s food by Monday or Tuesday, especially when Michael took some to work.

  “I spoke with Rose today.” I started picking up the plates from the table.

  “Who?”

  “Rose, Adam’s teacher,” I tried saying without sounding judgemental, but probably failed.

  “Oh,” Michael avoided talking to her when he dropped Adam off.

  “She said Adam is having a rough time in daycare. He won’t sit with the other kids, and he doesn’t participate in other activities.” I tried cleaning the egg, but it was stuck to the table. I decided that from now on I would only make omelets because they were easier to clean.

  “Of course he’s having a rough time, he hates it there.” Michael didn’t like this daycare either. The building was old and Michael said that the teachers never said hello to Adam when he dropped him off in the morning.

  “Yes, but I couldn’t tell her that. I blamed the cancer. That shut her up.”

  “They won’t take his nonsense when he gets to school. Everything makes him nervous.” He looked at me and added with a smile, “just think about what happens when he’ll take his SATs…”

  “Are you seriously trying to annoy me right now?” Any chance mom got; she would tell Michael how stressed I was when I took my SATs. To her, that was my most challenging period. By now it was already a family joke that everyone would mention on different occasions. I didn’t think I was exceptionally anxious compared to other students; it’s just that I needed to do well on these horrible exams so that I wouldn’t have to retake them. That’s it. When Tommy hardly studied for his SATs, I reminded mom of how much she complained about me. She answered that she didn’t know which was better; my unnecessary hysteria or his annoying laziness.

  We sat quietly and heard Ariel singing in bed. It was a good thing that Romy and Adam fell asleep so easily. Michael was reading something for work while I stared at the TV screen.

  “OK, I’m done. I’m going to take a shower and then go to bed.” I stood up and looked around me. Romy’s toys were scattered all over the floor and Ariel’s clothes were spread on the sofa. I decided I would take care of it tomorrow. In any case, when it’s dark, no one sees how messy it is.

  Even though I was exhausted, I couldn’t fall asleep. I thought about how we would tell the children about mom. I knew it was a matter of time, but I didn’t know how much time. It was best to be ready. Thinking about the day after, made me sick. I gave up trying to fall asleep, and watched some Seinfeld reruns. I probably fell asleep at some point, because when I woke up, it was morning and the alarm clock went off.

  Chapter 42

  “So, what do you think?” I asked Anna. We were working together on a big case Alice had to present in the supreme court. I asked her to go over a precedent I had found, but I wasn’t sure whether we should use it. I was trying hard so for once Alice would be truly pleased with what I had prepared.

  “I think it would help the opposing council more than us.”

  I erased that part from the document and hit save again. “Do you think I can hand this to Alice?” I panicked every time I sent her an email.

  “Sure,” Anna went back to her desk and sat down.

  It was a relatively boring case that dealt with budgets from the Ministry of Culture, and the way they were divided among different theaters across the country. David, our client, owned a small theater that didn’t get any budget at all. He was a nice man in his fifties, an art enthusiast, who would tell me every time we met about his travels from one art gallery around the world to another. Our conversations were fascinating, and definitely livened up dealing with this case. His unique wardrobe could be a whole other conversation topic in itself.

  I was working on rereading the document before sending it to Alice, when a knock on the door made me jump.

  “Hey.” Mia came in with a big smile on her face. She wore an elegant beige-colored suit and shiny black heels. Next to her, Anna and I looked like students on spring break.

  “Hey you!” I stood up and hugged her. We became good friends, and made sure to have lunch together every other week. She gave me recommendations for good doctors, and we kept each other posted about test results, mostly MRIs. I always felt comfortable talking with her about these things. After all, she was the only other BRCA carrier I could talk to.

  Mia hugged Anna and then sat in the chair in front of me. Even the way she sat down was elegant.

  “I have a meeting in an office nearby, so I just dropped by for a minute. I have good news for you.”

  “Yes?” I leaned forward, just waiting to hear something good. I needed to hear something good. Anna realized we needed some privacy and went back to her desk.

  “Do you remember that I once told you about someone named Lisa, who was starting a foundation for carriers?”

  “Of course,” I saw that Anna was listening, but she didn’t say a word.

  “She started a foundation called ‘Bracha.’ You have to talk to her. She’s having a symposium for carriers.”

  “When?” I couldn’t believe it finally happened.

  “I don’t know. You should talk to her, here’s her number.” Mia put on my desk a yellow post-it with a phone number in her handwriting. “I have to go.”

  “Thank you, Mia,” I said with excitement, “that’s great. I’ll talk to her in a little while.” I walked her to the front door and hugged her again.

  I ran back to my office and immediately called the number Mia had given me.

  “Hello?” I heard a distinct Anglo-Saxon accent.

  “Hello, Lisa?”

  “Yes?”

  “My name is Shirley, I just got your details from a friend. I understand that you started a foundation for BRCA carriers.

  “Right, how can I help you?”

  “I feel uncomfortable calling you like this so early in the day, but you can’t imagine how happy I am to speak with you. I’ve been looking a long time for someone who can help healthy carriers, I even thought of starting something myself. It’s just that my mom got sick, and I have small kids, so I don’t have the time for it.”

  “No worries. I’ll be glad to meet you. A lot of women call me, even men. We’re holding a symposium at the end of the month; would you like to come? There’s going to be a lot of important information. We’ll also have doctors that will be answering all your questions.”

  “That’s great. Sure, I would love to come.”

  “All the details are on our website. No need to register, just come. When you’re there, feel free to introduce yourself, so I know who you are.”

  “Great, thank you, Lisa. I’m so grateful that you did this for us.”

  I hung up and immediately called mom to share the good news.

  She was at work. I was amazed at how despite it all, she was business as usual. My mind, however, would constantly wander and I found myself reading the same sentence over and over again.

  I tried reaching Michael, but he said he couldn’t talk, so I gave up and kept going over personal stories on the foundation’s website. Many had the same thing in common – their mother had died of cancer. Sometimes it was their sister or aunt. Sometimes, it was both. The stories were sad, but for some reason, they didn’t upset me, but rather made me feel I belonged. I felt I could see myself in each of these stories.

  I wrote down the symposium date and sent Natalie a text asking her to save it. It was unbelievable that my entire plans, eventually relied on a twenty-two-year-old.

  Chapter 43

  “I want you to go to the lab and give the Armenian specialist a blood sample,” mom said, while I was struggling to give Ariel a shower. Romy sat in her bath seat and
Ariel kept trying to pour water on Romy’s head.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about” I replied, and tried stopping Ariel from getting my phone wet.

  “Do you remember I told you about the Armenian who tests blood for viruses? He’s in Israel for the next couple of days. Ian from the council knows him and will give him your sample. Can you go now?”

  “Mom, I’m with the kids giving them a shower. I could maybe do it tomorrow, on my way to the office.”

  “OK, I’ll ask Ian to come by and collect it. Just let me know when you’re in the office.”

  “OK, I’ll talk to you later.”

  Ever since mom got sick, she kept trying different things. There was a time when she went on a very strict diet, and took special vitamins. Gabi became a real expert at importing vitamins to Israel. Every day, she drank fresh juice made of different orange vegetables, until she turned orange herself. Then, she did the Armenian’s plant extracts. She heard about him a year ago, and sent her sample to him in Jordan. I have no idea how she pulled that off. After a few weeks, she got a small box with bottles in it, and for a few months she took the Armenian’s magic drops. That’s what she would call them. The cancer was back, so apparently, they didn’t work.

  However, despite my skepticism, I went the next morning to the lab. I assumed that she wanted to try and save me, in any possible way. When I came to the office, Ian was already waiting for me in our small front lounge.

  “Nice to meet you,” Ian stood up and gently shook my hand, “you look very much like your mother. It’s uncanny.” Dina looked at him suspiciously, but kept quiet. A courier came to deliver something and he was waiting for her signature.

  “Thank you,” I said, for the lack of something better to say, “so, you’re taking the sample to the Armenian?”

  “Yes, Dr. Dickran is in Tel Aviv this week. Did you know he’s a famous specialist?”

  “Mom told me about him,” I answered quietly, because I didn’t want everybody to hear our conversation.

  “It’s a shame he couldn’t help her. Maybe it was too late when we found him.”

  “Maybe. Anyhow, thank you for all your help, with my mom’s issues and mine.” I knew he went above and beyond his position when it came to helping my mom.

  “Of course, I adore your mother, she’s an amazing woman,” Ian said with a smile.

  “I agree.” I gave Ian the box with the lab sample.

  “I’ll give him your number and he’ll call you. He doesn’t know anything about you, he gives a diagnosis only based on your blood.” Ian peeked into the box, and seemed to see what he was looking for.

  “OK, thank you again.” We said goodbye and I went back to my office.

  Anna was slowly drinking her herbal tea and looked up at me when I came in. “Who was that?” she asked with curiosity.

  “Someone who works with my mom and took my sample to some Armenian virus specialist.”

  “Sounds interesting. What does he do with it?”

  “He claims that every cancer starts with viruses, so he looks for viruses in your sample, and gives you medicinal extracts that are supposed to treat the virus. Then the cancer recedes. I think it’s nonsense, but it’s important for my mom. So, I just went with it.”

  “Cool,” Anna went back to sipping her tea.

  “Yes, we’ll see what comes of it.” As long as I wasn’t forced to eat things I hate, I was willing to try anything. Well, almost anything.

  Chapter 44

  The Bracha foundation’s symposium was held at the Tel Aviv Medical Center, so I decided to stay in the city instead of driving home and back.

  At 7 P.M., I drove to the hospital. Lisa had arranged parking spots for participants, and when the executive parking gate opened, I felt like a V.I.P. The hall was in the basement, next to the operating rooms, with which I was too familiar. I had never been to the hospital for no reason whatsoever, unless it had something to do with my mom.

  A big table of sandwiches and salads was surrounded by women who happily chatted with one another. It looked like a high school reunion, and not a cancer symposium. I registered and proudly made a donation. I tried finding out who Lisa was, but there were many women, and I felt uncomfortable asking.

  It was impossible finding a sandwich without tomatoes, so I took a few crackers and walked into the hall. There were only a few women sitting scattered throughout the hall. Some looked like mothers and daughters, while others like sisters.

  A long table was placed on the stage and on it were signs with doctors’ names. I was very happy to see Dr. Carmi’s name between two other doctor names I was unfamiliar with.

  At about 8 P.M. most of the women were in their seats. The hall was still half empty, but someone standing on the stage asked everyone to sit down. The lights were dimmed, and a good-looking blond woman, who looked slightly older than me, appeared on the stage. When she started speaking, I could hear her accent and understood she was the famous Lisa.

  “Welcome to the ‘Bracha’ professionals’ symposium,” Lisa spoke ceremoniously, and I could tell she was excited. “I’m so happy to see familiar faces as well as new ones. Tonight, sitting in the audience, we have some healthy carriers as well as some survivors.”

  I looked around and saw everyone smiling at Lisa. Some looked at her with admiration, of which she was definitely worthy. There was a small number of men in the room. Sometimes I forgot it concerned them too.

  “When my mom got sick, no one told us that we need to get tested. Several years later, my sister got sick too and then I found out I was a carrier. I had my breasts removed just before my sister passed away. I am a proud previvor. My sister couldn’t save herself, and I knew that I should allow each and every woman the opportunity to help herself. Instead of sitting and waiting for the disease to come – actively preventing it.

  The doctors will soon tell you that the surgery can’t prevent cancer from developing, but only reduces chances of getting sick. While this is of course true, what matters is that you have the option to do something that would significantly reduce your chances of getting sick. You will all make your own decisions, but I want you to know that the foundation is here to answer any question you may have.”

  The doctors of the panel spoke and answered questions. Dr. Carmi was there and spoke in a calm tone about ovary removal surgery. I didn’t ask anything. I only sat and listened. From what I heard, I realized that losing a mother, was something that many of these families had in common. I didn’t know whether I should be happy that my mom was still alive or sad because our time with her was limited.

  Everyone clapped when it was over, and the lights turned back on. I approached the stage to introduce myself to Lisa and waited patiently until she could speak. It felt like I was waiting in line to meet a celebrity.

  “Hi, Lisa. I’m Shirley, we spoke over the phone.” I assumed I wasn’t the only one who called to ask for her help.

  “I remember. It’s so great that you came.” Lisa hugged me as if we’ve known each other for years.

  “It was amazing. I learned so many new things tonight. Thank you for putting this event together.”

  “I’m glad. We’re having another meeting at my house, for Purim. You should come.”

  “I’d love to. Thank you again, we’ll be in touch.”

  That night I dreamt I was walking down the street only to find I was surrounded by women with breast implants, and they all looked like Barbie dolls. I think that for Michael, my nightmare would have been a wonderful dream.

  Chapter 45

  A few days after the symposium, Dr. Dickran’s assistant, Josef, called to give me the results of my blood sample testing. I was at work, having a meeting with David and I realized I had completely forgotten about all that Armenian voodoo.

  “The doctor said that he found a virus related to breast cancer in your sam
ple,” Josef said.

  “What does a virus related to breast cancer mean?” I asked.

  “It means that now you don’t have cancer, but you might potentially get sick.”

  “What about ovarian cancer?”

  I heard him mumble something in a different language, and after a few seconds, he said, “there’s nothing related to ovarian cancer. Just breast cancer.”

  “OK, good. What do we do now?”

  “I’m coming to Israel in about a week and then Ian will give you some of the doctor’s extracts. You take 10 drops a day, morning and evening. When you finish them, send over your sample again and we’ll check.”

  “OK, thank you.”

  I hung up slightly shocked. So many thoughts ran through my mind: what would I tell mom? What do I do with this information? That’s it? Something has already developed? How do I stop it? Will those voodoo drops help?

  “Perhaps it’s not my place to say,” David said, “but I accidentally overheard your conversation.” He squirmed in his chair and kept looking at his papers, as if he was reading.

  “It’s OK,” I replied quietly, it wasn’t really his fault. He knew that my mom was sick, because I had moved around some of our meetings to take my mom to radiation sessions. He had asked me once if we tested for the gene and I confided in him about being a carrier. It seemed that he was well informed about this topic, but I never asked him why.

  “I didn’t tell you until now, because I didn’t want to make you anxious, but perhaps I should.”

  “I think I can handle it.” I didn’t think I could be more anxious than I already was.

  “My wife’s mother passed away from breast cancer. She also was a carrier. They lived in the U.S., where there’s more awareness. They checked her the moment she was diagnosed, and so did my wife and sister. My wife’s sister, Jenny, found out she was a carrier of gene number 1. My wife found out she wasn’t a carrier.”