Locked in the Sauna for Refusing Bone Marrow
Language: en
My parents catered to my every whim. They always told my older brother to let me have my way. Whenever relatives sneered, calling me a "walking blood bank," my parents would shield me, point at the front door, and tell them to get out. They would hold me tightly and whisper in my ear. "You and your brother are equally important to us. Don't listen to a word they say." Until I was eight years old. I grew so tired of the agonizing pain of bone marrow extractions. I refused to cooperate. I refused to let them take anything else to treat my brother. My mother, who had never spoken to me with…