I used to joke that raising twins meant having two children and one shared nervous system.
Then, in February, Maya started getting headaches.
At first, we thought it was stress.
Senior year.
College applications.
Too little sleep.
Then she collapsed during rehearsal for the spring musical.
A week later, we were sitting in a hospital conference room listening to a doctor explain a diagnosis none of us were ready to hear.
Everything changed after that.
College tours disappeared from the calendar.
Prom plans became oncology appointments.
Saturday mornings became blood tests.
I learned the location of every vending machine on the pediatric floor.
Eli started doing homework in hospital waiting rooms.
Maya tried to joke through most of it.
She hated when people looked at her with pity.
If I cried in front of her, she’d point at me and say,
“Absolutely not. We are not turning my room into a sad Lifetime movie.”
