A lot can change in a week.

Today is Wednesday, December 29, 2010. I've lived almost a week since finding out that my older sister's breast cancer metastasized into her spine and brain fluid.

It's funny how life can change in an instant. I've always heard this but I never really started experiencing this phenomenon until I reached my late twenties. Before that, it seemed like my life was solid and heavy and it required great exertion to change my circumstances. Then--in an instant--I was pregnant. And life was never the same. But that change was good, even though it was terrifying at the time.

This change is bad. And it happened in a split second of time. It's funny, now, to think my sister's cancer may have been growing silently into her spinal fluid for months. Maybe years? We have no idea how long it's been there. She was first diagnosed with cancer in June. She started chemo right away, responded extremely well, had a mastectomy in October, and was declared cancer free. Oh the joy! Despite the nagging worry of a positive BRCA II test, we were all relieved and started breathing again.

Then came December. Carrie started throwing up and passing out. She had just started taking Tamoxifen. We all thought it caused the side affects. She stopped taking it. The vomiting got worse. She started having seizures. We knew something was wrong but every time she went to the hospital they said she was just recovering from the chemo.

Eventually the pain and headaches were unbearable. My sister wound up at a different hospital. Thank God for Good Samaritan. They did a lumbar puncture and found cancer cells. Her cancer got into her spinal column. This is the worst type of matastases. The spinal column is a separate entity and the membrane surrounding it cannot be permeated by traditional chemotherapy.

I got the call about the cancer return a week ago tomorrow. I had just taken Cole to get his picture taken with Santa. I was walking through Nordstrom and I got a text from my mom. "Are you home yet?" I knew the news must not be great because she normally just calls. I called her as I left the parking garage of Fashion Show mall. It was cancer.

When I got home, I made the mistake of reading about this cancer that was eroding my sister's spine. It was much worse than I thought. Plans were changed and I decided to fly out on Christmas day to spend the afternoon with my sister. It very possibly might be her last. I've spent almost every minute at the hospital since getting here. As I type, I am listening to my sister's precious snores. The pain on her face is almost more than I can bear.

I don't know how to get through this.