She was frail.
She closed her eyes most of the time. When she did open them, the vacant eyes that stared from among the sunken sockets revealed very little.
Her daughter was with her. She was worried because the nursing home had said that her mother was vomiting blood. Even though her mom communicated very little, the daughter said she could tell her she was in pain.
While the elderly woman’s body was frail, it was clear that her mind was no better off. Her face registered no sense of comprehension as the daughter and physician discussed her condition.
The daughter offered her a baby doll. A flicker of light shone in the woman’s eyes as she looked at the doll, holding it with both hands. Perhaps it reminded her of when she was a young girl and she had played with a similar doll.
Is that how it goes? Playing with dolls and figures when you’re five, and then again when you’re eighty-five?
Another flicker appeared in the woman’s eyes, but this time the emotion revealed was far from positive. The doctor was pressing on her belly. Her face strained in pain.
The scan revealed at least two significant masses, one in the stomach and one in the liver. Most likely cancer.
The daughter clutched her chest as she heard the news. The old woman continued to lie in the bed, her eyes closed, no evidence of understanding in her body language.
Would the daughter be able to convey this news to her mother? Would she understand that she was dying?
Or would it be better for her not to know?
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