“Sure,” I said quietly, and then I ended the call.
Fighting the Storm Alone
Two days passed after that phone call without a single message from them asking how I was doing or whether I needed help. During that time, I attended medical consultations alone. I listened carefully as doctors explained treatment options and quietly arranged childcare plans for Luca so I could continue working between appointments.
The next time my phone rang with a family member’s name on the screen, it was Ivy. She had the bright, cheerful tone she usually reserved for moments when she needed a favor. She explained almost immediately that she was trying to secure financing for a new car and that the bank would not approve the loan without a co-signer.
Her request arrived without any mention of my recent medical appointment. Not once during the conversation did she ask whether something serious had prompted my attempt to call our mother earlier that week. In her mind, my usefulness remained tied entirely to the reliability of my name on financial paperwork.
I sat on the couch with an ice pack on my neck, trying not to throw up from the early effects of my condition. I asked her, “Did Mom tell you what’s going on?” There was a pause. She said, “No, what?” I told her clearly: “I have cancer. I started chemo last week.”
