Abandoned Hope

"Honey, maybe we should tell your mom to stop treatment." On Christmas Eve, after spending the day cooking dinner for my in-laws, I was getting ready to head to the hospital and keep my mother, Deborah Ramsey, company through the night. Just as I reached the door, my husband, Blaine Ramsey, stopped me. It took me a moment to process what he'd said. I turned and stared at him in disbelief. "What do you mean?" He lowered his head and stayed silent. My mother-in-law, Rosalia Ramsey, however, answered with an impatient glare, "It means exactly what he said. Your mother's treatment should stop. Her illness is nothing but a bottomless pit that's going to swallow who knows how much money." I immediately argued, "The doctor said she has a 90% chance of making a full recovery. After surgery and about two years of rehabilitation, she'll be fine. She has medical insurance, so after reimbursement, it won't even cost that much." My sister-in-law, Aviana Ramsey, rolled her eyes and chimed in, "Doesn't that still mean there's a 10% chance she won't make it? "And even if she does recover, she'll just be useless. She doesn't have a pension. She'll end up relying on Blaine to support her anyway. "So why not stop the treatment now? At least she won't drag everyone else down." I looked at Blaine. He kept his head down without saying a word. I didn't argue anymore. I picked up the lunch box and left for the hospital. Had they forgotten? The house they were living in—the one they called a burden—had been bought outright by the very woman they wanted to abandon. Three days later, Rosalia collapsed during a family dinner and was rushed to the hospital. It was late-stage cancer. Blaine and his family panicked, talking about selling the house to pay for her treatment. Leaning against the wall, I yawned. "Honey, I already sold the house. Maybe your mom should just stop treatment. It'd be a waste of money."