Tami Le

I wish there was a switch. A switch that you could flip at the end of your life when you are ready to go. A switch that ends all of the pain and suffering. A switch that stops the destruction the cancer is doing to your once healthy, strong and beautiful body.

On December 29th, 2007, my boyfriend's dear aunt, Tami Le, passed away at the young age of 57.

Co Tam was diagnosed with breast cancer 10 years ago. She persevered through a tough treatment plan and even had to undergo high dose chemo and an autologous stem cell transplant (a once-popular combination therapy that fell out of favor as a treatment for breast cancer). Co Tam successfully kicked cancer in the ass and enjoyed the next 10 years with her daughter Michele, her two adorable dogs (Rocky & Rolly) and countless friends and family.

Unfortunately, the cancer slowly creeped back in and a few months ago she was diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer as it had spread to her lungs and intestines. Over the last couple of months her health quickly deteriorated. The space around her lungs filled up with fluid making it very difficult to take in a full breath. What was once the most natural and automatic process of the body, became the most exhausting and frustrating struggle. Her energy was completely used up on the strenuous exercise of breathing which made it difficult to do all the things she loved most (dancing, singing, playing with her dogs, etc). Nevertheless, she remained hopeful and would never turn down our requests to visit her.

My boyfriend Van and I spent the day before she passed at her bedside with all of her many loved ones. We sat there in silence and watched her. Though you couldn't read her closed eyes and she was much too weak to even whisper a single word, we could sense the enormous amount of discomfort she was in by observing those frowning brows across her beautiful skin. We wanted the pain to end and were telling her that it was okay to let go. We thought she was going leave us that afternoon, but being the fighter that she was, she clung on until 11:03pm the next day to spend just a little more time with her loved ones. It was heartbreaking to see her go, but I feel relieved that she is no longer suffering.

This past year I felt extremely connected to Co Tam because she was one of the few people that really understood what it is like to be in my shoes as a cancer patient. She was extremely supportive and shared her own experience with me so that I could become a smarter and stronger patient. I always admired her for her determination and perseverence and I will continue to look to her as an inspiration to never ever give up.