After a month, the attending doctor informed us, "The patient in Room 26 has improved, but further treatment is needed, and that requires more money. Here's the bill. If there are no issues, please pay early to avoid delaying treatment."
Improvement? How could someone with advanced cancer truly improve? It was merely keeping her alive, giving hope to the healthy.
I glanced at the bill, identical to the one when we first entered the hospital—200,000 dollars!
In my previous life, I spent all my savings on these repeated expenses.
But when I couldn't afford the medical bills, and I asked Mom to use her savings, she'd rather die than allow it, even leaving a will that gave everything to Steven.
Steven even accused me of not wanting to treat our mother for money, and the relatives were no different.
I calmed my emotions and dialed my uncle's number.
He answered with a hearty laugh, "Gloria, what made you think of calling me?"
"Uncle..." I continued with a choked voice, "Mom's sick, I... I don't know what to do. Can you help us?"
"What? Your mom's sick... Gloria, don't cry. We're family, and your mom is my sister. I'll definitely help, just tell me what illness does she have?"
"Breast cancer... advanced stage."
"It is cancer and advanced stage. Gloria, let's leave it at that for now. I'm a bit busy, but I'll come visit your mom tomorrow..."
Before I could respond, the line went dead.
They are indeed a family.
Then I called my aunt, and got a similar reaction. They showed feigned concern upon hearing about Mom's illness, but avoided involvement once they knew it was cancer.
I truly felt sad for my mom. With advanced cancer, her son only wanted her inheritance, and the relatives avoided any connection.
I did everything I could for her, yet she was blind to it.
This time, treating her was the greatest filial piety I could offer.
The next morning, relatives came to our house.
My uncle, aunt, and to my surprise, my aunt-in-law also came.
She had never liked our family much, always frowning at gatherings.
My uncle broke the silence. "Where's Steven? Why isn't he here?"
I choked up and shook my head. "I don't know. I haven't seen him for days."
Steven indeed hadn't visited for several days, having kept vigil for two nights and then excusing himself on a business trip, unreachable by phone.
My uncle cursed, "That damn boy, his mother is sick, and he's still out messing around."