We came back from the doctor’s consultation today. The news outcome we feared the most came true.

“I’m so sorry to break it to you Mr and Mrs Park, I really wish things were different…” Doctor Kim Hye Jung spoke, eyebrows slightly furrowed. “The Biopsy results are out and,” she paused for a moment before continuing, “its malignant.”

Mum’s hand flew up to cover a gasp that escaped , tears forming. My heart sank.

No way.

Minhee was silent. It was as if she already knew. Mum was crying, but her hand never left my sister’s. Dad was consoling the both of them and I just stood there. Fazed. Why is this happening? My sister had always been relatively healthy and she only became ill a week ago. How could it be a Stage 4?!

Since young, I have been exposed to stories and films on cancer by the media. I knew those patients would undergo surgery, chemotherapy, and/or radiation therapy. The medications would eventually make their hair fall out. They would then wear a cap or a beanie, silently announcing to others that they are sick. But that is not the worst, the scariest thing about advanced cancer is that it is a terminal illness. Most patients in the films I watched never survived.

I have never expected myself to be in the same shoes one day. I have always thought it would only happen to others and my family would never be that unlucky. Guess I was wrong, very wrong.

The car ride home was unbearable. Nobody spoke a word. No happy music on the radio could fill in the emptiness we felt.

Minhee undergone an operation around 2 weeks later. The doctor performed a Total Abdominal Hysterectomy with Bilateral Salpingo-Oophorectomy; a long procedure that removes the uterus,both ovaries and fallopian tubes. Just the long name of this surgery scares me. Even if my sister survives this ordeal and recovers, she would never be able to have kids again.

Minhee’s wound was recovering fast and was soon discharged from the hospital. At home, everyone tried to cooperate to attend to her needs as much as we could. Being a sensible child, she never once cried or whined about the pain. Neither did she threw her temper nor took the opportunity to order us around like some spoilt brats would do.

As the days passed she started on Chemotherapy. Since it was an advanced stage, the treatment was scheduled on a weekly basis. On the 3^rd week, Minhee’s hair started thinning and tiny white patches of hair loss started to show on her scalp.

“Do you want a wig, sweetie?” Mum asked her one day. “You can choose the hairstyle you like!”

After pondering for a moment, Minhee replied, “I would rather shave it all off.” She was smiling but she wasn’t happy. Her eyes showed nothing but sadness.

So dad got me to buy a hair clipper and we shaved her hair at home. For the next few months, Chemo, blood tests and doctor’s consultation kept Minhee and my parents busy. As I was caught up with debut activities both locally and overseas, it was regretful I could not be with them most of the time. The CA125 marker had been slowly but steadily dropping on every doctor’s visit. It went from 4000+, to 3000+, to 1000+ and the latest result showed 420. Doctor Kim even decided to reduce the dosage and frequency of the medication. It was a good sign as it meant the drug was working. This good news made us all believe that miracles do happen and I was able to concentrate on my work better.

Just when I thought we were going to wake up from this 1.5 years of nightmare, the demon stood there cackling, telling us it was just the start. Despite all the treatment, trying out all the possible home-remedies we could find from the web/friends and Traditional Medicine, we discovered a new mass growing on her chest. The CA125 marker had shot up again, implying a failure in treatment in controlling the condition.

The god-dammed cancer was out to take my sister’s life.

As it had unfortunately spread to the bony tissue, surgery was an impossible option. Doctor Kim had arranged for the chemo appointment to be cancelled too. Over the next few weeks, there was an abrupt drop in appetite, energy and Minhee was drowsy most of the time for a few days. I couldn’t keep a proper conversation with her because every time I spoke a sentence, she would open her eyes and doze off to sleep almost immediately again. It was as if she was in a semi-coma state.

We sent her to the hospital about 4 days after her sleepiness would not go away. The nurse injected medicine and put her on IV drip but Doctor Kim told us she would discharge Minhee as soon as possible. That was when we learnt it the location of the tumour was causing more complications. Malignant Hypercalcemia was the term.

“You look much better today, Minhee,” Doctor Kim smiled.

“Yes I’m feeling better Doctor Kim.”

“What is your favourite food?”

“I love bingsu! Ice cream and pancakes,” Minhee said.

“That’s great! I have a good news for you.”

“What is it?” Her eyes lit up.

“You’re going home tomorrow. There’s no bingsu store here so I’ll treat you a cup of ice cream if that’s ok.”

“Ice cream? I can eat that? Dad told me not to eat too much sugar, it feeds the cancer,” Minhee asked.

There was silence.

“Now its not the time for you to worry about these. Enjoy all the food and things you want Minhee,” Doctor Kim patted her shoulder.

Doctor Kim’s words signified one thing: Minhee was nearing the last phase of her life.