Family survives health care crisis through faith -- and kitty

"Before my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer, life wasn't that bad. I mean, it wasn't perfect, but whose was?"

Christine Burger, an eighth-grader at St. James School in Albany, wrote that line with four years of hindsight. In 2000, it wasn't just her mother's life that changed; Christine learned what it was like to be the child of a parent with a life-threatening illness.

Christine wrote about her experience in an entry for The Evangelist's annual teen essay contest. Recently, she and her mother, Joan, sat down with The Evangelist to talk about how family life is affected by a health crisis.

Beset with illness

The Burger family, parishioners of St. James Church in Albany, had many issues on their plate four years ago: Mrs. Burger's father was terminally ill; her son, Randy, had just moved to Chicago and was sorely missed; and Mrs. Burger herself was recovering from surgery for endometriosis, a disease in which adhesions bind the abdominal organs.

But, a month after her surgery, Mrs. Burger's doctor sensed something more was wrong. A mammogram revealed lumps in her breast, later found to be malignant. Shocked and scared, Mrs. Burger went home to tell her family she had cancer and would need to have a mastectomy.

"I'll never forget the day I came home from school to hear from my mom that she had breast cancer," Christine wrote in her essay. "I started crying and couldn't hold it in. I tried to calm down and just kept hugging my mother and petting my cat."

Worried time

As she cried, Christine remembered asking her mother over and over, "Are you going to be okay?" She wanted reassurance that, with her grandfather already ill, her mother would survive this ordeal.

First, however, the family's whole schedule had to change. Since Christine was only nine, she couldn't stay at home alone; therefore, she had to go to all of her mother's doctor's appointments.

Mrs. Burger spent five months undergoing chemotherapy treatments every three weeks and then had another seven weeks of radiation.

Being different

Mrs. Burger's mother, Marion, drove her to the appointments with Christine in tow. Christine would do homework in the car or at the doctor's office.

"I got used to it," the teen recalled. "Before [the diagnosis], I felt like a normal kid; after, it was more hectic of a schedule, more things to worry about."

One worry was being seen as "different" by her classmates and even adults.

"My teachers at school would ask, 'How's your mom doing?'" Christine said. She remembered thinking, "Why don't you ask other people that? Why am I 'special,' the weird one?"

She would tell the teachers who queried, "I've got to go to class now."

'Kitty helped'

Mrs. Burger recalled being often tired from the chemotherapy. She tried to carry on with normal housework; once, however, as she was pulling clothes out of the dryer, she suddenly felt like she was going to faint. Christine and a friend heard her and came running, then helped her into bed.

"My kitty helped," said Christine of that time. "When I started crying, I could always cuddle with the kitty."

Trying to do some normal things also helped. Mrs. Burger struggled through her treatments, eventually getting a "port" put into her chest so medication could be more easily delivered into her bloodstream. Sometimes, she was able to work; sometimes, her immune system was so compromised that she had to wear a surgical mask to keep germs at bay. But, as often as possible, she went to basketball games in which Christine played.

Looking for normality

"We looked forward to different things: when friends would have birthday parties; when we were going to Lake Placid on vacation," Mrs. Burger noted. "It took your mind off it."

Her long, dark hair fell out, and she tried wearing a wig but eventually threw it away. Christine tried not to think about those ups and downs of her mother's illness, saying: "I wanted to know the basics, but I didn't want to know every single detail."

Faith was the family's biggest resource. "Prayer lines were established in different parishes," Christine said.

Mrs. Burger told The Evangelist that she held medals of St. Peregrine, patron saint of cancer patients, during every one of her medical treatments. She also said the Rosary before going to work each day; her pastor, Rev. Dominic Ingemie, visited her and became a trusted friend. When the support group she attended at Albany Medical Center lost its coordinator, Mrs. Burger and others banded together to keep it going.

"Faith, family, friends and fun got me through," Mrs. Burger said of her cancer.

Changes

Christine's perspective on life changed as a result of her mother's illness.

"It made me think about my future and how my faith can prevent history from repeating itself," she said. "I will always pray to God and believe in Him. I'm young, but things happen. I have to prepare myself in life and believe in God's love.

"I looked more at the world as, if I die tomorrow, how would I want to leave the world? Would I want to have a fight with someone and not make up?" Christine noted. "I started living more for God, trying to do what was right."

Part of that was being nice to people, even when they didn't treat her well. Another part was participating in breast cancer walks to raise funds for research. Christine said her mother's illness made her want to show people that she was a good person.

Survival

Mrs. Burger is now in her fourth year of proudly calling herself a cancer survivor.

"It made me closer to a lot of people. When I see somebody with a bald head, I feel automatically closer to them," she remarked. "It's like you're in this unique club."

Christine doesn't talk often about her mother's bout with cancer. She said the most lasting effect of the experience is that she no longer worries as much, even when her family has gone through other struggles, including the death of her grandfather and the separation of her parents.

"I hate worrying!" she declared. Having a parent with cancer "is a big part of my life, but it's in the past."

Or, as her essay concluded: "Now, I live every day like it's my last day, because only God knows what the future holds. I believe the Lord can give strength to anything, and He gave my mom the strength to go through chemotherapy and radiation."

(Some of the quotations in this article from Christine Burger come from her entry in The Evangelist's annual teen essay contest.)

(12/16/04)