New tattoo

I've been wanting to get a tattoo dedicated to my momma for a while.  I finally decided, after the fundraiser, that I liked the ribbon idea enough to get it inked on me.  I chose the ankle for its spot.  I've only had tattoos done on the backs of my shoulders, and let me tell you, the ankle hurts a LOT MORE.  Holy hell.  It was worth it though, I love it.  :)  And now I know what to expect when I get my next ankle tattoo.  Yikes.

Success!

I am speechless.  I am astounded.  It may have taken two days, but we did it!  $600 raised for mesothelioma research!

I never in a million years expected to actually hit $600.  When day one ended we were at $465.  I pushed it some more on day two because it was SO CLOSE.  And it happened!  In 50 hours, 17 people donated $625.  That last $25 came in while I was writing this, and I wouldn't be surprised to see a few more trickle in over the weekend.

I'd like to take a moment to thank the people who made this possible.  Thank you Beth, Marie, Janna, other Janna, Ruth, Rob, Rena, Simon, Katy, Shana, Ian, Jerry, Jeff, Lisa, Kristin, William, and John for your generosity.  Thank you countless others for your tweets and retweets and sharing on Facebook.  I can't even begin to figure out how many of you there were, but I thank you from the bottom of my heart.  The outpouring of love and support was surprising and heartwarming.

You.  All of you.  You took a day that is amazingly difficult for me every year, a day that causes me sadness and grief, and you made it AMAZING.  June 23 will no longer be dreaded.  June 23 is a day to remember how many awesome people there are in this world.  People that I've never met, people I've never talked to, people who have had cancer touch their own lives and instead gave of themselves.  I love you all SO MUCH.

Huge internet hugs to all of you!

Beating Mesothelioma

Louise Marie (Pedotti) Proto

4/2/54 - 6/23/05

$625 raised in 2 days!!!
Future donations are welcome but will not receive gifts. Thank you!

Six years ago today, my sister Katy and I lost our mother to mesothelioma.  As part of my Day Zero Project list, I had set a goal to raise money for mesothelioma research.  What better day than today?  I have a lofty goal: raise $600 in ONE DAY for the Mesothelioma Applied Research Foundation in memory of my mother.


If you'd like to help, please click this "Donate" button to make a contribution using your PayPal account or credit card:

To show my appreciation for your generosity, each donor will receive a personalized thank you card from me, and one of the following gifts based on your contribution amount:


$25 and up: A pearl "know more" cancer awareness rubber bracelet.

$50 and up: A pearl cloisonne cancer awareness pin.



$100 and up: A pearl cloisonne cancer awareness pin personalized with my mother's name and dates of birth and death to represent the memory we're fighting for.



If you would prefer not to receive a gift, please note this in the PayPal comments.


Thank you for reading and caring.  Together, we can find a cure for this often overlooked cancer.


Continue reading for the full story of my mother's battle with cancer...


Louise was a "surprise."  Her parents were nearly 40 and 50 when she was born.  Her father worked in the Quincy Shipyard and often came home with a white powder called asbestos on his clothes.  Louise's mother, Elvira, and her sister, Barbara (11 years her senior), shook out his clothing on the porch before cleaning them.  Louise and her other sister Rena (7 years her senior) were not involved in this chore.


When Louise was 14, her mother died of mesothelioma, cancer of the lining of the lung due to asbestos exposure.  Seven years later, her father Reno followed, and then her sister Barbara, who left behind a husband and two young children.  Heartbroken, Louise and Rena were the only ones left of their big Italian family.


They thought they were safe; that they hadn't been exposed.  They each married and had two children.  They each divorced, and Rena remarried.  Life went on.  Shortly after Louise's 50th birthday, she saw a doctor for shortness of breath.  It wasn't long before she received the horrifying diagnosis: mesothelioma.


My mother Louise had one last wish: to see my sister and I graduate from high school and college respectively.  In May and June of 2005, she dragged herself to each graduation ceremony, frail from chemotherapy.  On June 23, 2005, she lost her fight and passed away, surrounded by family, at Brigham and Women's Hospital in Boston.


The Mesothelioma Applied Research Foundation is dedicated to raising awareness and finding a cure for this disease.  My mother lived only a year after her diagnosis.  The average life expectancy after diagnosis is no more than five years.  So many parents, siblings, and spouses are still being taken from their loved ones by this aggressive cancer.  Please...help us.

Suddenly

Sometimes I wonder how my depression suddenly kicked in so badly when I at the happiest point in my life.  I was depressed after my mother died, but that was understandable.  Now, I'm married, in a beautiful home, I'm a housewife, I love my life.  Yet it gets harder and harder to get out of bed.

Was it that my happiness kicked my depression out of my subconscious?  With nothing to complain about in my daily life, are my past sadnesses coming back to haunt me?  I didn't cry over my mother once on my wedding day.  Why do I suddenly crave her embrace now?

After the new year, I will call my doctor about starting therapy.  I'm sick and tired of feeling sick and tired for no good reason.  My life is amazing.  I wish my brain knew that.

Depression

I think I finally need to come to terms with my depression.  My mom's been gone more than five years, and it's taken me this long to really admit it.  My life is amazing, and I am truly happy.  Yet this depression keeps creeping in, making me tired and useless.  I'm a housewife with many hours in my day, and I don't get nearly enough done.  Waking up is hard.  Getting showered and dressed is hard.  Doing chores around the house takes forever.  I need this to change.

It's not all about my mother.  My weight is the other issue; having been thin till age 21, being 75 lbs. overweight at age 29 is horrifying to me.  I hate myself, I hate my body, I hate my lack of motivation and willpower.  I need to stop the self-hate cycle.

I know I need therapy.  I've steadfastly avoided it for years, and I think I finally know why.  My ex-boyfriend, the one I was with for six years that messed me up pretty bad emotionally, was a psychology major.  Through college, he was constantly giving "therapy" to others.  I associate it with him and want nothing to do with it.  In a lovely catch-22, therapy would help me get over that.  I need to bite the bullet on that issue and just go.  This is not easy for me to admit.

I miss my mother every day.  I miss having parents in general.  I hate my dad for leaving us, but want nothing to do with him because he is such a horrible person.  I love my in-laws and my aunt and uncle, but it's not the same.  No one can ever replace the experience of having two parents in my life that have known me since birth and love me unconditionally.  I draw into myself because I don't want to burden people with my problems.  I could let it all out to my parents, and they would comfort me.  I miss that more than anything.

My mother wasn't perfect, but she was my mother.  I need to learn to live without her, and to do that, I need help.

How do I?

How do I get married...without my Momma there? Two months from today, I will marry the love of my life, and my Momma never even got to meet him.  He is loving and kind and mature and sweet, and she died two years before he even came into my life.  She would have loved him.

Throughout the wedding planning process, it was always at the back of my mind that I would be doing this without her.  All the stress, the freaking out, the moments where I was sure my wedding would be a tacky mess...she wasn't there.  She won't be there, because cancer took her from me.

On June 23, 2005, my 51-year-old mother died after a year-long battle with mesothelioma; cancer of the lining of the lung due to asbestos exposure.  How that came to pass is a story for another day.  I was 23 and my sister was 17.  Our father hasn't been in our lives since our parents divorced in 1995.  We were orphans.

One day, when I was convinced my wedding will be a disaster, something occurred to me.  My momma never let anything bad happen to me.  I haven't been in a single car accident since she died, despite some close calls (and only one motorcycle accident, which I walked away from with a skinned knee); I met the love of my life in the enormous sea of online dating; my fiancé and I found the house of our dreams after the price magically dropped.  She has always been there.  Why would my wedding be any different?  My momma will be there, making sure nothing goes wrong.

I'm including her in any way I can: her wedding picture (one without my dad in it), displaying her wedding gown, a donation to the American Cancer Society in her (and my fiancé's grandmother's) memory for favors. I know she'll be there.  I know I'll be thinking about her.

She'll be there.