When our mom, Belva Forbes, died from a rare form of ovarian cancer last March, my brother Jack Forbes and I knew we had to do something to help fight this devastating disease.
Our family watched Mom die slowly. She showed amazing courage and remained positive throughout the grueling treatments, horrific pain and awful nausea and vomiting, but it all took a toll on her. The pain was the most difficult; it was just so hard for the doctors to get under control. Thankfully, mom had a wonderful, caring hospice nurse, Margaret Fourhman, a long-time Covington resident.
Oddly, I never believed she would really die, and I don’t think mom did either. We all thought she would be the one to make it, despite doctors giving her just months to live after treatments failed and her tumors grew and spread. We had heard the miracle stories of people surviving even when their odds seemed insurmountable. My husband said if anyone could do it, it was mom.
Sadly, the doctors were right and on March 12, our deceased dad’s birthday, mom passed away after slipping into a coma the day before. We stayed at her bedside until she died. We love her and miss her ever single day. She was my best friend and confidante, the one person I could talk to about anything and everything. Sometimes it just hits us and we’ll break down, but we cry less often now. I think about the fact that the very organs where my life originated were the source of her eventual death.
More money needs to go into early detection. The early symptoms of ovarian cancer – abdominal pain, bloating, loss of appetite or feeling full quickly and urinary urgency or frequency – mimic other illnesses, making it difficult to diagnose. Currently, there are no reliable tests to determine whether a woman has ovarian cancer.
Ovarian cancer often doesn’t get diagnosed until later stages, making it particularly lethal. When diagnosed early, it is highly treatable, with a 5-year survival rate of up to 99 percent. My mom wasn’t diagnosed until her cancer was stage three. She underwent two surgeries, a full course of chemotherapy then additional chemotherapy and radiation, but she still died less than 14 months after her initial diagnosis. It was devastating for all of us.
If there had been better awareness, her doctors would have seen that all the early symptoms were there. They chalked up her bloated abdomen, abdominal pain and feeling of fullness to diverticulitis, which we now believe she never actually had.
Awareness is so crucial and that’s why our family walked in Swedish’s 5K SummeRun on July 25, because 100 percent of monies donated benefit the Marsha Rivkin Center for Ovarian Cancer Research. It was a family affair for our “Bel’s Angels” team: my brother, husband Christopher, son Cooper (age 4), daughter Mackenzie (age 20 months), nephew Beau Forbes (age 17) and I all walked to remember our beautiful, loving, funny and courageous mother and grandmother. The little ones spent some time in strollers and on our backs, but they were troupers.
The day was incredibly emotional, and all of us cried at one time or another. Remembering mom’s struggle and walking alongside other women who were either battling the disease or who had survived it was so moving. It hurt, wishing mom was there, but it was also inspiring to see all the people who were there to support their mothers, sisters, aunts, grandmothers, and friends.
We learned a lot and hope to raise more money even though this year’s walk is over. This was our first time doing it, and we plan to make it an annual event. A cure must be found!
When I think of my mom these days, I try to remember her at her most vibrant, not how she was during her last days. But it is her courageous fight that has spurred our family to help promote awareness and raise money to find a cure. If mom was here, we know she would have been walking along with us. I think she was.
If you would like to make a donation, please visit the family’s SummeRun page community.swedish.org/belsangels.
Jennifer Provo
Maple Valley
