Ella’s story in memory of her mum

Hello, my name is Ella and I’m an 18-year-old from Adelaide, South Australia. I lost my best friend, my mum, Belinda, last year from Stage 4 metastatic bowel cancer. I am both her and my dad’s only child and will forever miss her and her presence in my life.

My mum had a heart of gold; she was always the one you would be able to go to if you had a bad day or had a problem. When I think of her now, I think of how unfair life was to my mum, and how I would do absolutely anything to get her back.

My mum was only 44 when she was first diagnosed with Stage 4 bowel cancer. I was 13 at the time, and I hadn’t comprehended how much time I actually had left with my mum.

For about two years before her diagnosis, she had been in and out of hospital and was only given medication to help with early menopause. I know for a fact that if they had caught it earlier, my mum might’ve been able to see me graduate and even see me get married.

Unfortunately, when they found the cancer, it had spread to her ovaries, uterus, gall bladder, appendix, stomach lining, and of course, bowel. She had a major surgery in 2021, called HIPEC, where they removed all visible tumours and then bathed her abdomen in heated chemotherapy. My mum’s recovery was long and strenuous, and she would still have to go through chemotherapy for months after her big operation.

It took my mum the rest of 2021 to get back on her feet, and while most of her cancer was gone and she had finished her chemo, there were still cancerous cells in her lymph nodes.

2022 was really the last year I got to see my mum healthy, as her cancer came back twice as strong and was back in her bowel again.

In 2023, she had a second operation to remove a section of her bowel, however, this operation completely messed up her digestive system, and she was left with blocked bowels for months after the operation. At this time, I was 15/16 years old, and had to call over 10 ambulances for my mum; it was hard for my dad and I to see her in so much pain, we would’ve done anything to take it away.

At the end of 2023, my mum was told there was no other option, the cancer had spread to her lungs and her kidneys, and her last treatment was Palliative Care.

For the rest of 2024, I watched the life drain from my mum; her once cheeky smile had faded, and her chubby cheeks had thinned down to her bones. My mum took her last breath in July of 2024. She was only 48, and I was only 17 when I had to walk into Palliative Care and see her for the last time.

I brought my guitar into her room, and sat next to my mum, who passed away moments before. For one last time, I played ‘Wish you were here’ by Pink Floyd and ‘Nothing Else Matters’ by Metallica; two songs she loved hearing me play.

My mum, Belinda, was the strongest woman alive, she held a smile right through until the very end. Her heart of gold never stopped beating, even after her death. I miss my mum so much and will never stop missing her. Even though I’m still only 18 years old, I know I will carry this grief for the rest of my life, until I get to see my beautiful mum again.

My one piece of advice:

I know as an 18 year old, I don’t have much life experience, but please, if you could take anything from me, my father, and my mother’s experience, tell your family and friends you love them; care for them, love them wholeheartedly, because there will be a time where you wish you could have a second chance. I would go through this all over again, if it meant I could see my mum again. Love wholeheartedly and enjoy the little moments,