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?"