My mother is not well. She often complains of this or that ailment, but this time it is something serious. She has pains in her lower belly. She first noticed them in mid-November. When they persisted for a week or so, I took her to a doctor. The first worry were her ovaries, because the doctor felt a lump in that region, but the ultrasound scan the next day revealed nothing. As my mother’s urine showed she had an infection, she got a course of antibiotics to suppress it. She went through all the pills by yesterday morning. However, the pain not only remains, but it is ever more frequent and insistent. This afternoon I will be taking her to the doctor again. We will need to see a specialist for internal organs but we cannot get to see one without the recommendation of a general practitioner. A few more tests and scans will be needed, I am sure. All this will be done and my mother will get the best care this country has to offer. Still, I cannot get rid of a lump in my own belly. I feel it there all the time, but it is especially oppressive at night. What I feel is not her pain but her fear. The fear of death.