My Daughter Took Chemo Leave; I Made Her Earn Money

1.

My daughter had taken medical leave from school for chemotherapy.

My boyfriend gave me the idea: let her earn her treatment money by finishing her study plan.

That way she studies while she does chemo, and once she's healthy again and goes back to school, she won't have fallen too far behind.

To get the money for her treatment, she really did start following the study schedule.

Chemo ended at one in the afternoon, and on the bus ride home she'd memorize vocabulary.

The moment we got home she could go straight to her practice tests.

Except as the chemo dragged on, she got slower and slower at her work.

Today she took half a day just to finish one problem. Her hands shaking, she asked me for help.

"Mom, could you advance me my treatment money first?"

"Once I feel a little better, I'll do double the problems."

I frowned at the test sheet, most of it still blank.

"A plan is a plan. There's no such thing as putting it off."

"You don't rest until it's done."

I turned and walked away. But that night she sneaked my phone and tried to transfer the money, and by the time I caught her, that round of treatment had already ended.

Seeing this, my boyfriend gave me another idea.

"She's acting out. Send her to camp for a few days to straighten her out and she'll be fine."

The day they took her away, the neighbors came out to talk me out of it.

"She's still a child, and she's sick on top of it. Sending her to a camp like that, something could easily happen."

I brushed it off.

"I'm sending her to be taught a lesson, not to die."

"It's only a few days. Once she learns to behave, I'll bring her back."

"And she'll get her treatment then, same as before!"

My daughter didn't cry, didn't make a scene. She just fell in behind that group of instructors.

Only when she looked back at me, her eyes were a little hollow.

Like there was no soul left in them.

...

My daughter's body had gotten even thinner.

Her hair was thin and patchy, no color under her eyes, and where her arms were bare you could still see a faint blue-white cast to the skin.

My neighbor Ramona Dickerson couldn't stand it anymore. She jabbed a finger at my face and let me have it.

"Are you even her mother?"

"Your own daughter is sick. What she most needs is treatment, not a lesson."

"Her sense of the rules is too weak. Without rules, nothing holds together."

I pulled her hand off me and looked at the instructor.

"One week. As long as she learns to behave."

"Don't let it hold up her study plan after this."

The instructor said nothing. He just looked at me with something strange in his eyes.

Once everyone had cleared off, my boyfriend took my arm, all affection.

"Come on, let's go out to eat."

"Without your daughter eating up your time, you can finally breathe."

On the table was the Western-style dinner out that I loved.

But it might as well have been chewing wax.

My best friend called.

"Are you and Selina Dickerson at the hospital? I put in for my annual leave, I'll fly out and help you take care of her."

"How's she doing?"

I froze for a second, then said no.

"Don't come. Selina isn't at the hospital."

The line went quiet, and then her voice cracked a little.

"Is Selina... is she..."

I knew she'd guessed wrong, and quickly added,

"I sent her to a training camp to learn some discipline."

"She'll be back next week."

Something crashed over on her end, or maybe it was just her, but a jarring noise came through the phone.

"Are you out of your mind, Jasmine Cannon?"

"The kid is sick. The thing she most needs to do is get treated and rest, not train for some bullshit rules."

"Without rules, nothing holds together. She didn't finish her study plan, so she grabbed my phone to pay for the chemo herself."

Millie Bennett laughed, and there was a bite of mockery in it.

"Jasmine, are your eyes stuffed with money? To treat your own child, she has to finish some study plan before you'll pay? Is that it?"

"Your daughter just wants to live. Can't you pull your head out for one second?"

"Is studying really that important?"

I set down my fork and answered flatly, just two words.

"Important. Very important."

"I was raised the same way. Back then, when I had a fever over a hundred and four and was nearly dying, my mother made me finish my study plan before she'd let me be treated."

"A girl has to be tempered from young to grow strong. I'm doing this so she'll amount to something too."

On the other end, Millie's breathing turned heavy.

Like she was gasping for air.

"How is that the same?"

"You are one heartless animal."

I found her a little ridiculous.

It was such a small thing, and she had to put it so ugly.

My parents were strict with me from the time I was small. To make me amount to something, the belt, the rod, none of it was spared on me.

The worst time, it was over one problem I got wrong.

They broke my left arm.

The right arm was for doing problems, so they left that one alone.

I went a whole semester with my arm in a sling before it healed.

With my daughter, I honestly thought I'd been gentle.

I fed her well, let her drink well, and even for chemo and treatment I paid gladly.

All I asked was that she do her problems.

How was that not allowed?

I was about to swap out a few dishes when the child's grandmother called too.

"You sent Selina off to some training camp?"

2.

My head was starting to ache.

I didn't have to think hard to know this was Millie's doing.

"It's just teaching her some discipline, that's all. It's not a bad thing."

"Don't make such a fuss over it."

Selina's grandmother was worked up now, her voice climbing much higher.

"There's only this one child left in our family, and now she's sick on top of it. You won't get her treated? What in the world are you doing?"

"Her father died young. Can't you, her own mother, put a little more heart into her?"

The moment she said it, the humiliation and grief I'd nearly buried came surging back, burning like fire.

"Her father died young because he had it coming. Who told him to go rolling around in the car with that mistress?"

"You couldn't raise your own kid right, so what gives you the right to tell me how to raise mine?"

"Or is it that you want her to end up like her father? Refusing to shape up and dying early?"

I'd struck a nerve. Her voice went thick with grief.

"Jasmine, I know you blame me. But Selina's situation is different."

"I've treated you decently all these years. Even if it's just for my sake, can't you spare Selina the suffering?"

"I'm begging you."

If I'm honest, my former mother-in-law really did care about me.

During my recovery after childbirth, my ex-husband wasn't there for a single day. She was the one who looked after me the whole time.

The lochia from the delivery soaked the bed, and she changed the sheets for me without a word of complaint.

I buried my face in the pillow, low and miserable, and she was the one comforting me.

"I went through the same thing back then."

"Except my mother-in-law called me filthy and wouldn't help me. And I thought to myself, if I ever have a daughter-in-law of my own someday, I'll take good care of her."

Her brow eased a little, and she nodded in agreement.

"Just let her stay three days. Once it's over, I'll go pick her up."

"That should be good enough, right?"

She wanted to say something more, but she held it back.

Over those three days, my boyfriend and I went to movies, played games, ate out, and shopped.

It wasn't until the third day that I made time to go to the camp.

I spotted her the second I reached the gate.

She stood trembling under the streetlight, a tall instructor behind her still talking.

"What to say and what not to say, you'd better remember it yourself."

"Go home and do exactly as your mother tells you. Otherwise you'll be right back here."

The instant he saw me, the instructor's whole face changed.

Nothing but courtesy.

"Selina's made great progress in just one day."

"And she says once she's home she'll do her problem sets properly and aim to get into a good college."

"Selina, tell your mother yourself."

My daughter's body gave a shudder, and she nodded again and again.

"I'll start studying the moment I get home."

"Mom, generate the plan right away. This time I'll finish all the problem sets first, and then go get treated."

"I won't let studying fall behind."

"I want to study, I want to study..."

Her voice suddenly shot up, and it startled me.

The instructor caught it and shot her a glare.

The sound vanished again in a hurry.

"Ms. Cannon, if there's any problem, just come to me. I guarantee the girl will behave from now on."

My daughter nodded frantically.

That cowering, frightened look softened me a little too.

"All right. Let's head home first."

"You'll finish the homework you owe first."

Back home, sure enough, she went straight to her room and got to work.

Through the door I could clearly hear her drilling her vocabulary.

I felt some relief.

I went to the kitchen and threw together a little something for her to eat.

When the time was up, I checked her problems.

Seventy percent correct. Lower than I'd expected.

"Eat first."

I slid the meat over in front of her.

"Eat. I made a meat dish just for you today."

She looked up, and a flicker of light crossed her eyes.

"If I eat this, does it not get counted into my problems?"

I set the test paper down and rapped on the table.

"Here you go again?"

"Didn't we settle this from the start? Your medical costs and your nutrition meals all get counted into your studying."

"Today's is a tier-two nutrition meal, and with your error rate today, you'll do an extra eighty-five problems tonight."

She put down her chopsticks, her voice small.

"Then I won't eat. I'll go fix my mistakes first."

"I don't..."

She started to get up, then met my eyes and sat back down.

"I understand, Mom."

I smiled, pleased.

She was finally listening.

3.

Eighty competition-level math problems.

My daughter scooped herself a bowl of rice, tossed some meat and vegetables on top, and got up in a hurry.

"I'll go correct my mistakes while I eat."

"That way I can save time."

I agreed.

"Your uncle's idea really was a good one. You're finally shaping up."

"Go on, then."

The study had bright lights and clear glass walls, so I could see everything she did in there without missing a thing.

I finished eating, then went to the bathroom to do my skincare routine.

Only then did I have the leisure to go watch her.

On the desk, her bowl of rice had a few bites gone from it and hadn't been touched again.

She was working hard at the problems, and after only a little while her wrist cramped.

She didn't cry out. She lifted her hand to her lips and bit down.

That bite must have taken a lot of force. I could clearly see the teeth marks on her wrist.

It startled me, and I wanted to rush in, but then she went back to normal and kept working.

In the end my hand never pressed down on the door handle.

It was just a couple of bites. It wasn't like her arm had broken.

I cut up some fruit and brought it in.

Hearing the sound, her first reaction was to hide her hand behind her back.

"Mom, Mom, can I not eat this fruit?"

"I'm scared I won't finish the problems in time."

She'd barely said it before she hurriedly took it back.

"No, no, I didn't mean that. I'll finish. I'll do it right now."

"Mom, you made this plan because it's good for me. I'll get to it now."

For some reason, a sour ache welled up in me.

I pulled myself together quickly and set down the fruit.

"This is free from me."

"It won't be added to tonight's problems."

Her eyes were blank. She nodded and bent her head back down.

She really had gotten a lot more obedient.

Two days later came the next round of her treatment.

I got dressed, ready to go with her.

She turned me down.

"Thank you, Mom, but I can handle my own things myself."

"I'll come home tonight and keep working on my tasks."

I paused for a moment and didn't say anything.

Going by herself wasn't out of the question.

She was already an adult.

I took out my phone and transferred her the money.

"I sent a little extra. After the treatment you can go grab a simple bite to eat."

Then I turned around and went shopping with a new friend I'd just made.

But by the time I got home that night, the money I'd transferred out still hadn't shown any notice of being received.

I looked at her, a little puzzled.

"Without the money, how did you go to chemo?"

"Did you not go? How can you care so little about your own health? Did the money I paid for your chemo before just go to waste?"

"You're being this willful. Do you want to go back to that place again"

4.

She flinched like a startled bird.

Then she dropped to her knees in front of me.

"Mom, Mommy, it's not like that. I did do my chemo."

"Look at the needle mark. I went."

"It was just this once. A woman said she'd overpaid, said she wanted to shed the bad luck, so she just put it on my bill and told me to use it."

"Really?"

She nodded over and over.

"It's true, Mommy. I'm not lying."

"You can go ask the doctor."

She knelt there in front of me, her voice shaking, bowing her head to the floor again and again.

"Mommy, don't send me there. I'll behave."

"I'll be good."

Watching her apologize like that, so afraid, something tightened in my chest.

I'm her mother. I'd never hurt her.

Did she really have to be this scared?

"You"

"Do you think I'd actually eat you alive?"

"Forget it. Use whoever's money you want. But don't fall behind on your studies. If you need money, come to me."

She started taking her homework to the hospital.

At night she came home and shut herself in the study until every problem was done, and only then would she come out to say a word to me.

The dinner I set on the table, she wouldn't touch.

Ask her, and she'd say she'd already eaten.

Her treatment fee covered a meal.

"Coming home to eat at night wastes too much time, Mom."

"I'll just eat at the hospital. That saves time, and I can finish the plan right on schedule."

"You really don't have to push yourself this hard. Your health matters more."

I felt our conversations turning dry and hollow.

I meant to show her I cared.

Somehow the words came out contradicting myself.

"Forget it. Do whatever you want."

After that, things between us froze completely.

I cut fruit for her. She'd look at it, but she wouldn't eat.

Instead she pulled out a slip of paper and wrote it down.

"This plate has melon and strawberries. Converted into problems, the melon is ten, the strawberries are fifteen."

"I'll go finish them right now."

My body went rigid, and I hurried to explain.

"No, these last few days those don't count as problems."

She still didn't move. She shook her head.

"I can't eat fruit that isn't counted into the problem quota. You said so before."

"Everything in this house has to be traded by problem quota. That's the rule. It can't be changed."

"So I won't eat it for now. Thank you, Mommy."

The tight, suffocating weight in my chest grew heavier and heavier.

Finally I couldn't hold it in.

"Do you have to talk to me like this?"

"I'm your mother."

My voice startled her.

Her somewhat hollow eyes shifted and turned toward me.

Her voice was very small, very light, when she asked back:

"But Mommy, I'm only following your rules."

The anger burrowed right back down into my gut.

Once again I felt the failure of it.

"I understand."

Every piece of that untouched fruit, I threw into the trash.

The last round of chemo ended.

The test results came back. Her condition was completely under control now.

From here on, all she needed was to recover.

I wanted to share the good news with her, but I found a strange woman at the top of the stairs, stroking her head.

"My goddaughter's finally well. Once your exams are over, I'll take you traveling."

"Don't wear yourself out with studying lately. Your health matters most. You've got a godbrother now, too. When you're in college, if anyone bullies you, you come to him."

She was laughing, so happy.

Her eyes curved like crescent moons, and the hollow silence I always saw in them when I was around was gone.

I stood where I was and called out, my voice trembling:

"Selina?"

She turned toward the sound, and the smile on her face vanished at once.

"Mommy, I'll go home and do my problems right now. I'm the one who wasted time."

"This time, I'll add two extra as punishment."