It is with great sadness that we say goodbye to Elżbieta…

Diagnosis

In September 2023, we received a diagnosis that no one had expected. My mother, Elżbieta, was diagnosed with locally advanced rectal cancer. I remember it as if it were yesterday. That moment when time seemed to stand still.

The doctor’s words reached me as if through a fog. Mom was sitting next to me, and as I looked at her, I felt as though our whole world had changed in an instant, even though nothing on the outside gave it away.

Treatment

My mother underwent radiation therapy and intravenous chemotherapy. Later, her treatment switched to oral medication, which she took at home as part of her treatment at the Radom Oncology Center.

As time went on, more news came in. Metastases to the liver, then to the brain. Words that don’t sound like medical terms, but like something that changes the atmosphere in the room. Reality suddenly became harder to bear.

On top of everything else, I developed atrial fibrillation.

A Quiet Present

Today, my mother, Elżbieta, is at home. In a place that used to be ordinary, bustling with activity and the routines of daily life, but has now become her whole world.

He is lying on a special bed with an anti-bedsore mattress. This is the stage where everything slows down to the simplest tasks: changing his position, administering medication.

Mom can’t get out of bed. The headaches are the worst: they’re constant, present almost all the time, as if they wouldn’t let her catch a moment’s respite. Strong painkillers have become part of her daily routine. Being bedridden has also led to pressure sores on her back.

Small Passions

Before she fell ill, Mom loved to crochet. She could sit for hours with a ball of yarn, transforming it into something neat, delicate, and uniquely her own. When she was resting, she would do crossword puzzles. She was focused and calm, as if she found a moment of quiet just for herself in those words to be deciphered.

Today, those things are a thing of the past. Not because they’ve ceased to be important, but because the illness has robbed her of the strength to do what once came naturally.

Help is needed

Now Mom needs constant care. We’re taking turns looking after her—Dad, my siblings, and I—day and night. Each of us is doing what we can, learning everything as we go: how to move her, how to position her, how to be there for her. We do get help from the hospice, but it’s too infrequent and not enough to meet Mom’s daily needs.

That is why we need support with her rehabilitation and hospice care. We want her to be able to rest in peace, and we want to be there for her not only as caregivers, but also as family.