The radiation oncologist holds up a piece of paper that looks like something used for target practice. Black outline of a human figure, faceless, gender neutral. You and your father watch as she points to a clump of black squiggles drawn across the figure’s pelvis. “This is the area we treated last time.” She points to a larger clump above, on the figure’s abdomen. “This is where the cancer has spread since then.” Your father grimaces as he shifts position on the chair next to yours. “What next?” “We radiate the area, same schedule as before, five days a week for two weeks.” He nods. What? Somehow you manage to keep your voice low. “Dad, don’t you remember what happened the last time you had radiation? The side effects? Rectal bleeding? Pain so severe that OxyContin couldn’t touch it?” Your father shoots you that ‘don’t talk back’ look you remember so well from childhood. “I can take whatever they give out.” For a moment, the two of you sit in silence, eyes locked. You are the oldest of his five children, the one who lives closest to him, the one your father depends on most since your mother died. Your […]
No comments yet.
Sign in to comment.
Other articles with overlapping topics.