My Mother, Fayetta

         This is a true story about my mother, Fayetta Belle Carlson; for short, everyone called her Faye. After taking a shower, she noticed a strange spot on her breast. When this happened, she was in her late seventies. She made an appointment with her doctor right away. To keep her in good health, she saw her doctor on a regular basis. When the X-rays came back, it showed that she had cancer in her breast. I was shocked to learn that she never had a mammogram; I thought that her doctor would've done a mammogram before this happened. She ended up having her breast removed. They prescribed a medication known as Tamoxifen.

         Being a woman, having a breast removed, would be like taking an important part of a woman's anatomy away. This would leave me feeling devastated and depressed. I would feel that an important part of me was missing.

         Knowing that she would be minus a breast coming out of surgery, was brave of her. It seemed like a long time looking for an artificial breast; it was quite a process. When she put her breast replacement inside of her bra, I couldn't tell that it was fake. After having surgery like this, it's amazing what can be accomplished.

         After getting down to my goal weight in 2008, I participated in the Susan B. Konen Breast Cancer Walk. Having a team captain was a requirement in order to get a trophy. Since I was unable to get anyone to walk with me, I asked them if I could be my own team captain. They let me participate. I was happy that I could do it; I ended up getting the trophy for getting the most donations. I received a huge trophy; I requested to have my name engraved on it. My mother passed away on July 27, 2006. I was able to participate in four events one day apart from each other. I did this in honor of my mother.

         The second event, I was doing Jazzercize at the Clallam County Fairgrounds in Port Angeles, Washington. I worked out twice a day, six days per week, plus I walked ten miles or more six days a week with my special boyfriend.

         The third event was walking around a track for Relay for Life. Each time I walked around the track, I thought of my mother being a survivor and others who were survivors or have lost a loved one because of cancer.

         The fourth event was running the half marathon on the Discovery Trail. I couldn't afford to pay the fee to enter this, and I asked them if they would allow me to run for free, since I've never done this before. I was very blessed that they allowed me to do it. It took me about three hours and twenty minutes to run 13 miles.

         I was also a member of T.O.P.S. (Take Off Pounds Sensibly). Once a year they had a walk, which was about nine miles round trip. I did this by myself a few times to represent this organization.

         I dreaded doing exercise the most part of my life; Jazzercise was the only exercise that got me motivated to get up each morning and evening to do. It paid off in the long run; I couldn't believe how much energy I had. Before I started doing this, I couldn't do any push-ups. I ended up doing twenty after doing this for a while.

         It bothered me a lot that my mother's doctor didn't order a mammogram for her. I believe that they would have done it automatically when she had her check-up. My emotions were that of being mad and a bit angry.

I am going to write some poems,
And find a way to store them. Get
Your mammogram today, you'll be
Glad in every way.

Don't be afraid, it can save your
Life; If it's not done, you may lose
Your breasts, cause cancer may have grown
Inside. It may be saved after
Having a biopsy; What can
It hurt; you may be able to
Save your breasts.

You're a survivor, a real live
Wire. Honor the loved ones that
You've lost; remember them at the
Relay for Life; even though they
Have perished, please remember the
Memories that you've cherished.


         My mother, Fayetta, was a warrior. Her courage to fight the battle wouldn't rattle the care that she showed others. She gave me strength when I was weak; she was proud of me no matter what. She had the gift of God in her life. When I was depressed, she was there for me; if it wasn't for that, where would I be?

         There were times when I caused her stress, even then, she loved me no less. She believed in me when others wouldn't. I admired the love she had in her heart; she had joy and peace, that's for sure.

         To summarize my story, I was going to use a fictitious name for my mother, but decided that I would use her real name in honoring her. I appreciated her encouragement when I was growing up. When I was a teenager, I went through a stage of rebellion. Because I became involved with boys, I was considered a wild girl by society's standards, thinking that they cared for me, and finding out that they didn't. I wasn't doing it for pleasure; I really liked them. I was stood up many times and was ignored after the first date. I found myself very lucky that I didn't end up pregnant. When I became an adult, I was happy that I didn't end up that way; I wouldn't have been able to handle it. Taking care of myself was a very wise decision on my part.

         Even though I acted up, my mother still loved me. I felt that people were judging me without knowing the facts. As a teenager, I was very vulnerable; easily talked into doing things that I didn't want to do, otherwise, I was a good kid.

         When my mother had her breast removed, I remember going into the quiet room to pray. I remember being scared; any operation is scary.

         It took more courage for me to share this story because I was afraid of being talked down. I made mistakes when I was younger and felt bad about myself. I spent a lot of time wondering what was wrong with me. I wasn't good at a lot of things; however, I had a lot of interest in things. I was often criticized for not doing things right. I was frustrated because I was slow at doing things. Why can't I be like everyone else? I would often say. I had a lot of dreams about being successful in my endeavors, but never felt that I would measure up in society.

         My mother and I would cry and laugh together. One day she cried to the deacon of the church, "Who is going to take care of my daughter?" Having a mental disability was hard for her. Both of her sons developed a high fever; one passed away before I was born at about fourteen months old, from spinal meningitis. His name was Larry. My brother Allen became mentally retarded. One day he was eating peaches and choked. They were not able to revive him.

         Even today, I miss my mother. I am honoring her on Breast Cancer Awareness Month. She was a survivor of many things. Her act of courage was something I inherited from her genes.

1,275 Words

Written by Anna Marie Carlson
Preferred Author
Friday, October 27, 2023