“Are you in pain?” I asked Miri.
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Wouldn’t her illness cause her a lot of pain?” I asked the nurse.
“Yes, but sometimes the brain blocks the pain receptors. It’s not uncommon or unheard of, but now that she knows ...” The nurse trailed off.
This wasn’t happening.
“I need to go call work,” I told Miri. “Be back in a minute.” I excused myself while the nurse inserted the IV, then walked out of the room and went to the end of the hallway, barely able to keep my tears at bay. Biting the inside of my cheek, I pressed my mom’s name on my phone and held it to my ear.
“Hey, honey.”
“Mama ...” It dawned on me that I only ever called her “mama” when something was wrong.
“It’s cancer, isn’t it?”
I couldn’t keep it in and let the gut-wrenching, heartbreaking sob loose. I couldn’t inhale enough air to keep from hyperventilating. My howls were loud and matched my mother yelling my name on the other end. Finally, I rested against the wall and slid to the ground.
“She has cancer.” I finally said the word through a barrage of hiccups.
“Okay,” she said. “Cancer is treatable, Antonia. I know it’s hard to hear, but it’s something people can and do survive these days. They’ll take her into surgery and remove the cells, and then she’ll start treatment. Miriam is a fighter. She’ll come out on top.”
If only it were this easy.
“It’s all over, Mama. Everywhere. In her colon, breasts, and pancreas.”
“Wh-what? How?”
“I don’t know. Most of this is a blur ...”
“The kids.”
“They don’t know. I ...” I cleared my throat, not that it did much to remove the rock that had formed there. “I drove up yesterday when she called to tell me she was sick, and stayed with the kids last night. Cutter knows something’s up, though.”
“Wait, did she know?”
Did she?
“No, I don’t think so. I don’t know.”
Now, I didn’t know what to believe. Would Miri lie to me? To the kids?
I couldn’t fathom it.
“I can’t lose her, Mom.”
“I know. You won’t. I’m on my way. I was going to wait until after rush hour to leave, but I’ll leave now.”
“We’re at the hospital. Fifth floor.”
“Where are the kids?”
“At school. I’ll be here until Nova’s out of school. Cutter has basketball practice, so I have a little time there.”
“Call your sister.”
I closed my eyes and nodded. “I am. I know oncology isn’t her department, but she’ll know what to do. I want to bring Miri to Boston for treatment.”
