As soon as I hit end call on my iPhone my tears poured down my face like it was in a race. My nose began to drip. My heart feels ripped in half. My grief rushes through my whole body like salt in an open wound. Here we go again.
It is the night before my 34 year old younger sister will go through a full mastectomy. Due to cells in her lymph nodes, our family history and her prior battles with cancer, this surgery is necessary. There are no other options to kick cancer.
The reason why she has no other choice is two germ cell tumors removed from her. One from 14 years ago and one 2 ½ months ago. And once again like a broken record the powerful dejavu clouds my soul.
Sitting by my sister’s hospital bedside year after year gives my empathy to what my aunts felt holding vigil by our mom’s hospital bed. Our mom lost her second battle with cancer at the age of 38.
I poured through the internet looking for answers on the type of cancer.
This post is to be continued.