Tough beyond measure

My sister is hardcore.

About five years ago, she was hit by a car while trying to run across the highway at night.  Thrown fifty feet through the air, the only thing that saved her life was the patch of grass that she landed on. 

Dozens of broken bones  and months in the hospital and in a hospital bed at home, she eventually stopped taking the Oxycontin prescribed by the doctors to manage her pain after watching a television show and seeing what Oxycontin addiction can do to a person.  Two days after quitting she began having the extreme withdrawal symptoms associated with the drug and was told by the doctors that you cannot stop taking Oxycontin cold turkey.  The withdrawal symptoms are some of the worst possible, including anxiety, nausea,insomnia, muscle pain, muscle weakness, fevers, and other flu like symptoms.  More extreme symptoms include clinical depression, anxiety disorder, psychosis and in rare cases, even suicidal ideation. 

Stepping down slowly, she was told, was the only way to quit. 

She decided to ignore the doctors and quit anyway.  After a month of hell, she was free from the drug and living happily with the pain.   

Five years later, her arm is still broken and requires surgery, but after multiple operations and a fear on pain medication, she opted to live with the busted arm and move on.

She now takes care of her two daughters and her grandson on her own. 

The girl works at least as much as me, and probably more.

But none of this is what makes her hardcore. 

Instead, it's this:

My sister celebrates nonaversaries:

The anniversaries that would have happened had you not been dumped.

That, my friends, is hardcore.