It started with a polite request to take my listless baby to the hospital for a check up. Soon the requests turned into pleas, but to no avail. I went through the worst forms of abuse in my marriage but the criminal act of not getting medical help for my sick baby (his baby too actually) takes the cake!

Eventually when I managed to take him to the hospital, my worst fears came to life. The diagnosis of cancer is shattering for anyone but when you are the mother of a baby who is suffering from not only cancer but also a hopelessly narcissistic biological father, it is unimaginable misery.

I knew that my management degree will help me find a good job but then who would have looked after the ailing child? A paid help could not be expected to do justice to the enormous mission at hand.

So that was the end of my dreams of getting out of the abusive marriage. I needed the financial support of my abuser to keep his son from suffering from a deadly disease.

My son's academics and his frequent hospital visits take all my energy and time. That is what life is all about. The only interruptions to this routine are the frequent scenes that my husband keeps creating to embarrass me in front of my family and friends and to embarrass my son in front of his classmates.

My son is presently in 8th standard in a good school. He is doing well despite his ailment. My husband has left his job and we live off rents from some properties he has. Him being at home has made our lives even more miserable as my son is always unhappy. Rather than supporting the child, my husband actually nags and scolds him.

Also he actually makes cruel fun of the fact that my son has lost hair due to chemotherapy. All this tension and hostility at home has led to worsening of my baby's condition.

Yes, I hate the man I made the mistake of marrying but I shall continue to live with him as I don't have an alternative. Sometimes, life does put us in a spot. I don't know how much longer I have to put up with this. May the lord give strength to me and my son.

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