When I was in fourth grade, my 14-year-old sister woke up every night crying from back pain. This went on for weeks, and my mom just thought it was from her heavy backpack or that she pulled it during tennis practice. As the days went by my sister started losing a considerable amount of weight, so my mother finally took her to the doctor. The first doctor thought she had diabetes, but we knew that wasn’t right. After tons of blood work and tests, the second doctor we went to told us that she had Osteosarcoma, a bone cancer.

I remember exactly where I was when my older sister and I found out. My mom was crying on the phone, which, during those days, was normal. My sister and I were sitting on the couch watching ice-skating. I think it might have been the winter Olympics, but I’m not sure. My mom walked into the living room crying and hugged my sister and told her that she had cancer. We knew at that moment our life would change, but we just underestimated just how much.

Our family’s life soon became one of constant doctors, medications, and fear. My mom and sister had to go to New York City for six months for my sister to get half of her back removed and replaced with metal rods, leaving her bed-bound and in a wheelchair. Since my mom is a single mother, I had no one to live with, so I had to spend a few weeks at my aunt’s house followed by weeks of being moved around from friend’s house to friend’s house.

When my family finally returned home from their first trip to New York, I wasn’t expecting what my strong older sister would look like. She was in a wheelchair, unable to walk, bald, less than 100 pounds, and sickly looking. I had never seen anyone look like this before, let alone my sister. She endured countless rounds of chemotherapy and surgeries only to find out a year or so later that her cancer had returned, this time in her lung.

This meant a trip to Connecticut for the best doctors to help her. This also meant three more months of me not being able to see my family. My sister got half of one of her lungs removed and did an experimental treatment for months to make sure the cancer didn’t come back in her lungs. It didn’t work. The cancer came back in the same lung. Less than 18 years old, and she was diagnosed with cancer for the third time. The doctors had to completely remove her lung. If the cancer came back today in her other lung, she would have a very low chance of survival.

After getting her lung removed, she was recovering in the hospital when I called my mom for our not-so-often phone calls. I was staying at a friend’s house when my mom told me my sister was getting scans at the moment because her knee was hurting. A few days later, she told me the cancer came back for a fourth time in her left knee. This was a lot of illness to handle, not only for my strong sister, but also for my unbelievable mother. My sister got her knee replaced and a metal rod in her thigh. The rods in her back also had to be replaced about three times because they kept breaking.

Finally, at 23 years old, my sister is officially cancer free! Our journey isn’t over, though. She still has to go to physically therapy to help her walk and still takes tons of medication, but we are beyond blessed that she is still with us. There are more than a few times we thought we would lose her. She missed all of her teenage years because she spent them in a hospital. She is catching up by going to college and is planning to be an elementary school teacher. She got her driver’s license this year and some of her independence back. My family can finally breathe a sigh of relief after eight and a half years of constant worrying.

My sister was one of the lucky ones. 13,500 children are diagnosed with cancer every year in the United States. 25% of these children die. My sister now gives speeches to various childhood cancer charities. My family fights for awareness and funding to find a cure for this disease because we know what a beast it is. I am incredibly grateful to the doctors that saved my sister’s life, my mother, and every single person that reached out and helped my family during this time. And although we've all grown from this experience, I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.

If you want to donate to find a cure for childhood cancer please visit Rally Foundation!