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Daniela Bustamante Daniela Bustamante
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She had a friend.

For my mother, she passed away on September 29, 2004 and this story explains everything she went through and how she still remained strong.


Cancer... I have cancer. I'm dying.


It's September 29, 2004 and I'm getting weak. On May 30th, I was diagnosed with cancer and at the same time I turned 50 years old. I have stomach cancer to be exact. That news was the most horrible birthday present ever.


I chose not to have Chemo-Therapy since there's no point to it; it's too late. My cancer is already at Stage Four and the Chemo won't help that much. I've told my family the news... many of them are in shock, especially my mother. My daughter has absolutely no idea what to think, she's only eleven. I worry because she has no emotion on her face and I have no idea what's going through her mind. She sits and begs me saying "Mommy please don't die... I want you to stay here." Those words make me stronger everyday.


I'm having second thoughts about the Chemo-Therapy. Maybe I will survive... maybe the cancer isn't too bad and there is hope. I don't want to leave my daughter here by herself. The days go by and I don't feel any different. A week passes by and nothing; no pain. Toward the end of the week, I start to get weak. The pain in my stomach grows more and more. I scream for someone to take away the pain... but no one is there.


I've been throwing up blood a lot and I'm worried, but I know it's just the cancer affecting me. Lately, I've been fainting a lot, especially at work. My manager has told me to stay home, but I can't, I need to keep strong and also work for my money to pay the rent. I've also been losing a lot of weight. I can barely eat, I throw it all up. I choose not to eat because what's the point if I just throw up all my food. I don't even worry about my appearance anymore, what's the point of it? I don't even recognize myself anymore. I literally look dead. It doesn't seem to bother my daughter as much as it bothers everyone else but then again, she's only eleven.


The pain is even worse now and I can't take it but I just hold it in and scream on the inside. I go to the doctors and they tell me bad news. They say I should be admitted to the hospital because it's just better that way. I prefer not to; I've always been stubborn.


On my way into the church, I fall and hit my head on the concrete. I try to get up as quick as possible so my daughter doesn't see me, but too late. She had turned around and started crying. That's when I realized I wasn't the strong person that I thought I was anymore but I show no emotion and move on. That same day I prepared a song to sing in front of our church congregation. On my way out of the church, I'm not able to walk, I have to get carried to the car. This person living my life is weak and it's not me because I'm always strong and never show weakness; that other person is starting to take over.


At the apartment, I do nothing what-so-ever anymore, my daughter does everything for me. She washes all the clothes and cleans. I'm so proud of her! On the weekends, I take her out to the park or just to the store. I cherish every moment I spend with her because they might be the last ones. She is more than my daughter now, she is my best friend. She stands by my side throughout this battle. I'm worried about her though, who's going to take over her? I can't completely depend on her father, but I know there's someone out there. Right now all I want is for my son to come back to church and get his life straight.


Well... the pain gets worse everyday. I can't help it, I literally scream because it hurts so bad. I am now admitted into Pomona Valley Hospital. This situation is only getting worse and my fear is starting to overcome my strength, but I won't let that bring me down; I'll try to get the positive out of it. I could sense that my last days are around the corner. People come and visit me everyday. My son and daughter are constantly with me. My daughter tries to help me as much as possible, but I tell her to get away because I don't want her to see me like this.


One of the days out of the week, my sister comes and visits me. I get so excited, I haven't seen her in six years. She lifts up my spirit, she lightens up the room like a light in the middle of the darkness; she lights up my world. It's such a joy to see her, but she immediately starts to cry and I just hug her with whatever strength I have. I tell her that I love her with all my heart and to not worry about me, "I'll be fine," I say. After being there for about five hours, her time has come to leave... the darkness once again fills the room when she leaves and I cry silently. I wish everyone could just stay with me all day long. My daughter walks in and just sits there and watches me the whole time. I finally open my eyes and smile at her.


I hate the fact that this whole situation is making her grow up so fast. I am now in Intensive Care and I am only getting worse. I can't even talk, I can barely move. My daughter says, "Mommy can you hear me? Can you? Move your hand if you can. Mommy, I love you!" Five minutes later, I move my hand. Her eyes tear up and she carefully gives me a hug and kiss and says, "Mommy I love you! I'll see you tomorrow."


In my mind, I tell her that I love her and hug her until she can't breathe. I tell her goodbye and let her know that I will always be in her heart...


Today is September 29th, yesterday was the last time I saw my daughter and today was the last time I saw the loved ones that surrounded me. But today, I'm in a better world, in Heaven... saved.


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