There is hope…for others like me

Taly Revital Weiss

Taly Revital Weiss
10/3/1955 – 6/10/2010     

Taly, Revital, Weiss was born October 3rd 1955, survived Hodgkin’s cancer in 1982, diagnosed with pancreatic cancer June 2008, and passed away June 10th 2010. If there is one way I could describe my mother it would be full of life. She was my hero, leading by example, and living her life as we all should. Here is her story.        

Taking pride in her delicious creations from our kitchen

Standing outside of a New York garden while visiting her brother in 2008

We never had a garden here in Canada because we live on the tenth floor, but our balcony is a landscaping plant lover’s urban heaven. Thanks to my mother’s green thumb, her and my father designed this plant oasis that included a herb garden.  It breaks my heart that when she spent her last days in the hospital, our garden flourished. She never did, and never will, get to experience this summer’s garden with us.     

Painting a cabin at a friend's Quebec cottage in 2006

My mother is an artist at heart. Her medium of choice: watercolours. Anytime we travelled to a nearby park… or city…or another country… Let’s start again. Anytime we went anywhere, my mom had her sketchbook and watercolours with her. If she wasn’t painting, she was making little whimsical characters out of colourful polymer modelling clay. Her works of art are displayed throughout the website. She always wanted to feel her work was respected and appreciated, but she was too shy and humble to promote herself. As a result, her work never sold. Working on this site gives me pains of regret that I hadn’t created something like this when she was still alive. 

My mom and Pauline hug at the cottage

Her unconditional love…     

  … was just one lovely trait she had. She was funny, feisty, outspoken, kind, patient, loyal, assertive, brave, inspiring, selfless… She was my role model. Her dedication to her friends, family, and animals is a constant lesson in humility and kindness. It didn’t matter what kind of person you were, your background, your social class, and  

On a sailboat with Jose

for some, your emotional stability. My mother loved everyone. She was a people person with a lot of patience, a trait I wish she passed on to me. When some would walk away from uncomfortable social encounters, my mom would take the time to explore them. She would give people time to open up, understand them, and reveal a kinder side. She was dedicated,  

My mom with her college friend John. Sadley, he passed away a few months before her.

volunteering her time to help others, and self-sacrificing for her family all her life. She always put others before herself. Every person who’s life she touched can undoubtedly say that there was something special about her. My mom was someone you could spend all your time with and still feel like it wasn’t enough. A feeling I will always struggle with and share with whoever knew her.    

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Her Family…        

Just the three of us

…loves her and misses her every minute of everyday. She has only myself, my father, and her mother in Toronto. Her brother lives in Brooklyn, New York, and other relatives, mostly aunts, uncles, and cousins, live in Israel. This year we took a family vacation there, our last trip together. It had been 10 years since my mom visited. It felt as though she was saying goodbye. Her and my father were married 26 years. 22 of those years were also spent with me. I try not to think about how much time we all lost, but how many wonderful years we’ve gained.         

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Looking happy and healthy at 51

Her Battle…    

… started in June of 2008 . My mom was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer at the age of 52. They found her tumor in stage 1. Extremely rare for pancreatic cancer patients. The tumor was located on the distal end of her pancreas. It was removed with her spleen in a succesful surgery. She started chemo treatments with Gemcitabine shortly after. My mom remained positive through and through. There were times she was angry that this was happening to her, but grateful she was the luckiest of the unlucky.    

5k walk for GI funding at Princess Margaret

On March 2009 she successfully finished her chemo treatments and went into remission. There’s a bell you ding when you leave “chemo daycare” one last time. My mom triumphantly rang that bell while other pancreatic cancer patients could only dream of doing such a thing.  

A couple of weeks later my mom felt pains in her abdomen. She was told it was acid reflux. She was told they would find nothing. She was told they wouldn’t book her for an earlier appointment because it was normal to feel some discomfort due to the previous surgery. My father sat outside the specialist’s office everyday for two weeks in hopes of advancing the appointment. He did. It metastasized to her liver.   

My mom and our dog Mookie 2009. He's with her in heaven too.

The treatment started all over again. Gemcitabine was not working for her anymore. They couldn’t use radiation either because she was previously radiated in 1982 for Hodgkins. The alternatives were Xeloda, and Tarceva costing thousands of dollars per month. Breast cancer, and prostate cancer patients receive the treatments for free because of better funding. We had no choice. We continued the new treatments while enviously watching others ring the bell outside of “chemo daycare”, just as my mom once did.    

A family weekend in Kingston Ontario

One year later, March 5th, they stopped chemo because the treatments stopped being affective. First they would slow down the growth, but eventually the tumors gained momentum. The bigger they get, the faster they grow. It’s vicious. The tumors not only grew, but they multiplied and found their way to other parts of her body, like the lungs. We were told there was nothing left except trial clinics.    

My mom would be chemo free for 4 weeks before she could undergo a clinical trial. The process got pushed back another 4 weeks. 2 months with no treatment was a death sentence. By that point my mom’s tumor’s doubled in size. Then they told her she had to undergo an invasive biopsy in order to receive the new treatment. This is when things really went down hill.    

My mom receiving a Christmas present from friend Maggie

My mom was controlling her pain with Tylenol, but now it wasn’t enough since the biopsy was causing her severe pain. The tumors had also grown so much in this time which caused additional nerve pain and nausea. We were in the hospital for a week to try and find a medication regime that could control the pain. After excruciating pain crisis’ and hundreds of milligrams of various medications we finally had pain control and went home. The trial medication was deemed temporarily unsuitable for her, and a CT scan was issued to see if it had any effect. It didn’t.
 

Sitting in Israeli forest, making dough for pita bread

One week later my mom woke me up at 2:00am. “Remember you told me I could wake you up anytime if I wasn’t feeling well? I’m having trouble breathing. I need you to help me pack my bag for the hospital. Don’t wake dad up yet…”    

We had no idea then that my mom was leaving our house for the very last time. In emergency we learned she suffered a pulmonary embolism and had fluid in her lungs. They couldn’t be sure how to treat her symptoms and pain because they couldn’t give her a CT scan. The dye from the last one was still in her system and causing her kidneys to fail.    

One of her last paintings. A beach called S'dot Yam painted in Israel

For the next three weeks we were in hospital. Her pain medications were constantly being adjusted and causing her severe amount of anxiety, paranoia, and pain crisis’. Miraculously the fluid in her lungs went down, and her kidney’s recovered, but following that was liver failure. She couldn’t talk, couldn’t move, and couldn’t respond. She took her last breath on June 10th 2010 at approximatley 4:00am.
 
It’s horrifying how quickly everything happened. A month before we were all in Israel for a family vacation. My mom and I were jumping on the beach, and she looked so happy and healthy. She was so incredibly radiant and positive. We were blissfully ignorant. We had no clue about our fate in May.
 

I miss those kisses so much... I love you mom.

We  lived with my mom in hospital. I slept there every single night and refused to stop fighting. She was so brave and hopeful. Towards the end I know she wanted to die. She suffered way to much from the pain and side effects of the medications. I always promised her that my father and I will fight for her even when she couldn’t. We did just that, and the fight continues to this day.