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The “Karen’ in the Milk Aisle

That one time I was speechless

Iva Ursano
5 min readMay 16, 2022
Depositphotos

I moved to Guatemala from Northern Ontario Canada in October of 2015 for many reasons with the main one being I really hate winter. Winters in my city are brutal. The last winter I lived there temps dipped down to -50C.

Yup. Time to gtfo.

I had been down here for a little over a year when I got the call. My younger sister had just been diagnosed with cancer and was given the “you have about 4–6 months left” timeline.

This can’t be. She’s the healthiest out of all of us.

Never smoked, hardly drank, she’s a good girl with two young boys under 10. She’s also a widow having lost her husband in a tragic motorcycle accident on his way to work one day just a few years ago.

How could this be happening? They must have misdiagnosed her, surely. Haven’t those two kids gone through enough already? My world spun around. I couldn’t even comprehend this. There was so much wtf about this whole thing.

Life was about to get very chaotic.

I booked my flight to Canada to be with her, spend time with the kids and even see some friends. It was December. Winter. God give me strength.

The milk aisle incident

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