A Deep Pit and Then Strength: The Journey with Breast Cancer
At the end of last year, I was preparing for New Year’s Eve filming; we were in the middle of the work rush when my phone rang. I didn’t answer, as I was in the middle of filming. A little later, I received a text message that delivered the hardest blow any child can receive—my mother had been diagnosed with breast cancer.
Life, dreams, plans, and everything else came to a halt. A deep pit opened before me, as if it was ready to swallow me whole. Although I had been dealing with my parents’ declining health for some time, this time it was different. It was something for which I could find no solution in that moment.
Those days were the hardest for me and for my entire family. We felt broken, afraid, and lost, facing a disease that seemed insurmountable. This diagnosis wasn’t just a physical battle for my mother, but an experience that tested the strength of our entire family.
The blow was huge, but we had to gather strength to move forward, to find a solution.
My mother underwent her first surgery that same month, just four days after the doctors discovered a malignant mass in her right breast. My sister, brother, and I waited anxiously in the corridor when the doctor called us into his office. “Based on the shape, size, and density, it’s cancer, but we need confirmation from the microscope,” he said.
I looked at my sister and brother. They were lost, crying. The biggest issue now was how to tell her the news. “No, there’s no need for anyone to know until we have official confirmation,” I said. The others agreed with me.
A major challenge in this disease is the need for positivity, something my mother lacked due to her overwhelming fear. However, our secret was revealed on New Year’s Eve when the doctor confirmed the biopsy results to her. That celebration turned into one of the saddest nights for our family.
Nonetheless, another challenge began on January 1st. From the moment of diagnosis to confirming the type of cancer, the journey in Kosovo is almost endless. Repeat biopsies, analyses, consultations, PET scans, and a dozen other tests came our way. We were running from one laboratory to another, from one doctor to the next. It was simply a steep mountain that had to be climbed in record time—a race against time.
Mastectomy was the next recommendation. My sister and I had to decide about our mother’s body because she refused to make the decision herself. Emotionally, she was overwhelmed, and morally, she had collapsed. This was the decision we couldn’t bring ourselves to make. Every time we said yes, we would change our minds at the last moment. The hope of avoiding chemotherapy made us decide just 10 minutes before her second surgery in a matter of weeks. The operation lasted around six hours—an agonizing wait.
This time, luck was on our side; my mother had no metastases, despite the aggressiveness of the cancer cells. Once again, we faced tests, this time to avoid chemotherapy. The results came in, and we could breathe again.
Now, cancer is a part of the past. The road to victory was not just my mother’s journey but also the journey of our entire family, which became a unity of strength during this battle.
However, this journey left us with many reflections on how the system needs to change to become fairer and more humane for those facing such diagnoses, especially for those in need. Fear, haste, the weak diagnostic system, and the lack of health insurance do not provide hope for a better future.
It’s Breast Cancer Awareness Month, and institutions are full of words, but actions are lacking. Many people give up in the early days because the moral and financial support from the state is as frightening as the fear of cancer itself.
I simply wanted to bring the voice of a family that faced this journey, one that found strength within itself to look forward with more hope that this country will become worthy for all.
With much love to all the families fighting today, not just against the disease but also against a broken healthcare system.
