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?"