I Promised My Son Forever—Then Cancer Made Me Count the Months

steals the little time I have left?

What if I trade swings and pancakes for hospital lights and nausea?

What if the trial doesn’t give me more life—just more dying?

Mike takes my silence as an answer and his face tightens.

“Sarah,” he says, voice cracking, “you can’t just… give up.”

There it is.

The sentence people throw like rocks.

Don’t give up.

As if dying continue reading …