Thriving Past Cancer: Marine's Journey

I was seventeen when my niece, Sarin Wakimian, was born. I was transitioning between teenhood and adulthood, preparing myself for endless college possibilities, planning my perfect future, questioning life, because obviously that's something we humans love doing: would I travel the world and become a famous reporter, write novels in a cabin off of Walden Pond, or treat patients in a psych ward somewhere? I dreamt, as all children do. And I dreamt big. Sarin penetrated my dreams. She drew me out of my teenage egocentricism and brought into my world a freshness I had yet to experience. I held her, played with her, and loved her intensely. Two years into my college revelry, Sarin began exhibiting physical ailments that impacted her life. Inflammation hindered her ability to walk and instead of toddling and running around she began to withdraw into her own hell. A frown replaced her smile as her reality shifted. She slowly lost her mobility and just when children are preparing f