Who Wrote 'I Gave Up The Treatment Not Them' And Why?

After my mother shot down my pleas to cover my medical bills the 100th time, I clutched my bone cancer diagnosis papers and trudged to the crematorium. "Hi, I'd like to reserve a cremation slot ahead of time," I muttered to the clerk. Half an hour ticked by before my parents and adopted brother arrived in their car. My dad, a forensic pathologist, cracked me across the face. "You're pulling a fake-death stunt now, just to steal the spotlight from your brother?" My mom, a hospital director, snatched the papers from my hands and shredded them into confetti. "Faking records using my credentials and tying up hospital resources? You've crossed the line!" My brother cried, tugging at their sleeves. "It's all my fault. I'll skip the amusement park forever. I don't need a thing. Just quit riling up Mom and Dad." I spun around, my hand pressed against my throbbing chest, and begged the crematorium staff. "Please, when it's time, cremate me and scatter the ashes in the river. I've got no family left in this world."

On the day I was supposed to donate my bone marrow, my mother called me. “You’re pretending to be sick again? We’re just asking you to donate some bone marrow. Why are you acting like we want you to die?” My brother agreed. “How could you be so horrible? You owe her this one! Even if she’s asking you to die, it’s because you deserve it!” Even my boyfriend could not hide his anger. “It’s just a bone marrow donation. We’re not asking you to die. How could you be so selfish?” They did not know that I would indeed die if I donated my bone marrow. Since they wanted me to die so much, so be it.

I spent years trying to be the perfect wife. I swallowed the insults. Excused the betrayal. Gave up my dreams because I was told they didn't matter. Convinced myself that I was the problem. Then one day, something inside me broke. I thought leaving would end my misery. Instead, it dragged me into a mess I never saw coming. The husband who never appreciated me suddenly refuses to let me go. The man who should have been nothing more than a stranger keeps finding his way into my life, looking at me like I’m the one thing he is determined to have. One is desperate to reclaim what he lost. The other wants me for all the wrong reasons. But after years of living for everyone else, I've made one promise to myself: I will never lose who I am for love again. And if they want a war? They'll have to fight it without me.

I'm diagnosed with a rare, incurable disease. A wonder drug that is being auctioned off is my last chance at survival. However, upon winning the bid for the said drug, my parents hand it to my older cousin, Annie Harper, who is suffering from infertility instead. This time, I will not make a fuss. I will even purchase a variety of supplements for Annie. My fiance tells me that Annie deserves to be married off splendidly. He wants to give his wedding gifts, which were originally meant for me, to her instead. I consent willingly. On top of that, I transfer both the house and the car he purchased for me to Annie. My parents have relief and delight written on their faces. "You've finally grown up and understood that Annie needs this medication more than you do because she's getting married." My dad says, "Once I've attended the medical symposium for rare diseases and completed the dissection of a patient's cadaver, I will be able to develop a cure for you." Nonetheless, seven days later, I have become the cadaver meant to be cut open by my father. My primary physician calls my father out in public at the symposium, pointing him out as an unethical doctor who gave my life-saving medication to Annie. My parents and boyfriend are criticized by the audience for being murderers. Yet, they firmly believe that this is how I'm getting back at them. They intend to reveal my memories to the public so that everyone learns that I deserved to die.

The day my ex finally made it big, the doctor told me I had less than three months to live. On TV, a reporter was interviewing James Larson. “Mr. Larson, what drove you to success?” James chuckled, but his eyes were misty. “The biggest push? Probably when I was diagnosed with kidney disease eight years ago, and my ex walked out on me.” “I’m grateful she didn’t marry me. That was the wake-up call I needed.” After the interview, he called. “Amelia Simmons, I made it. Do you regret it now?” I rested a hand on the spot where my kidney used to be and let out a bitter laugh. “I do. And I have cancer now. Happy?” James sounded satisfied. “Serves you right.” He never knew—I got cancer because I gave him my kidney all those years ago.

On the day of the divorce hearing, the judge went through the usual questions. “You’ve only been married for three years. Are you certain your marriage has broken down beyond repair?” I forced a bitter smile. I took off my wedding ring and placed it on the table. “We were married for three years, yet we were never together for all three years. “Your Honor, is there anything left between us?” We dated for five years before marriage. My name was pinned at the top of his WhatsApp. I was his emergency contact. I was even the beneficiary of his insurance policy. I thought I had married the right man. But on our wedding day, he received a phone call, and his face instantly turned pale. I asked him what happened. He only said his mother was sick. He left everything behind and immediately booked a flight back to his hometown. For the next three years, he sent me photos of his three meals every day, but his mother never appeared in any of those photos. I felt sorry for him. I even offered to quit my job and go back with him to take care of her. He had refused and said softly, “I can’t bear to let you do that.” A month ago, I saw a cancer influencer’s account online. Orion Young appeared in one of her vlogs. The caption was heartwarming. [He’s there when I wake up. He’s there for every meal. His hands are always there for me to hold.] What did that make me? For 1,095 days, I had only myself. He had been lying to me. The judge struck the gavel for the final time and asked, “Have you made your decision?” I nodded firmly. The court officially ended the marriage. I looked at the divorce judgment in my hands, and my tears finally fell. I thought, “Orion, I’m setting you free. I’m setting both of us free.”