AITA for telling my nephew (11) he doesn’t have to ring the remission bell thingy if he doesn’t want to?

Imagine a hospital room, sterile yet buzzing with hope, where a brave 11-year-old boy battles Hodgkin’s lymphoma with grit beyond his years. This little warrior, nephew to a supportive uncle, is nearing the finish line of his ABVD treatment, and the hospital’s ready to roll out the red carpet applause, cheers, and a shiny remission bell to ring. But this kid, a quiet soul with a cynic’s edge, wants none of it, shunning the spotlight and the memory of being “fat, bald, and sick.”

His uncle, stepping up as a surrogate dad alongside his husband, backs the boy’s wish to skip the fanfare. A control-craving introvert, the nephew’s pushing back against a chaotic, unfair ordeal. Yet, his mom stressed and aching for closure clashes with this call, craving a celebratory sendoff. Tensions flare in this tight family, balancing a child’s needs against a mother’s hopes.

‘AITA for telling my nephew (11) he doesn’t have to ring the remission bell thingy if he doesn’t want to?’

So my nephew has Hodgkin's lymphoma. He's responding well to treatment and we're hoping that this round of ABVD will be his last. The hospital he's been getting his treatments at is one of those ones where when a kid's in remission they do the whole gauntlet of applause ring the bell thing.

The thing is my nephew doesn't want to do it. He says he 'doesn't want to remember being fat bald and sick.' He's also generally more of an introvert and hates being the center of attention. He also has a deep need for order and control, and I'm willing to bet this is a part of him trying to assert a tiny amount of control over a situation that is utter s**t and he can't really do anything about.

And, let's be honest, he's a premature cynic, and stopped responding to, for lack of a better word, 'wholesome' things a couple years ago - before he got sick, even. I respect that. I can't honestly say I imagine my own 11-year-old self would feel differently in his shoes.

So I told him he didn't have to do it if he didn't want to. I figured I was allowed to say this - his dad (may he get herpes and his d**k fall off) split when he was a baby, so me and my husband have been his surrogate Dads since then. My sister sees things differently.

She rants to me about how this has been hell on her, and she needs that moment of closure, and where do I get off making that kind of decision for him, and she goes the whole route of how all the doctors and nurses that have put so much love and care into making him well again would love to see him off, etc.

So, two things: am I the a**hole, and, while I have your attention, what do you think of my alternative sendoff: he stands in front of the sign to the cancer ward and flips off the camera. Make him look like a little badass.

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The past couple of months seem to have triggered his transition to adolescence a few years early - he now rolls his eyes and sighs like a 16-year-old. I really think he'd get a kick out of it.

This tale’s a heartfelt tug-of-war, with an 11-year-old’s cancer journey at the core. The nephew, battling Hodgkin’s, craves control, dodging the bell-ringing cheer to sidestep memories of pain and attention he loathes. His uncle, a steady surrogate dad, honors this, seeing a boy reclaiming a sliver of power in a storm he didn’t choose. Mom, though, yearns for a loud, proud moment to cap her grueling ride.

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Wider still, this echoes a dance of autonomy in pediatric care. A 2023 study from the American Cancer Society notes 80% of childhood cancer patients survive five years, yet emotional scars linger. Kids like this nephew often grapple for normalcy, and forcing fanfare can clash with their healing, especially for introverts.

Dr. Nadine Kasparian, a pediatric psychology expert, observes, “Children facing cancer need agency choice in small acts like skipping a ritual can rebuild their sense of self”. Here, the nephew’s stance wryly mature, almost a teen’s eye-roll—shields him from a spotlight he’d hate. Mom’s plea for closure, while raw, risks overshadowing his win.

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The fix lies in balance. Let the boy skip the bell, give Mom a private nod—maybe a quiet toast with nurses. The uncle’s instinct leans right, backing a kid who’s earned his say. Flexibility and empathy can ease this rift, celebrating survival on his terms.

See what others had to share with OP:

Reddit rallies behind the uncle, cheering his nod to the nephew’s wishes. They see a boy who’s fought hard, earning the right to ditch the bell and sidestep a fuss that doesn’t fit his quiet, cynical vibe. Mom’s push for closure stirs sympathy, but the crowd leans firm: this battle’s his to call.

A cheeky thread runs through—some love the uncle’s edgy photo idea, a badge of the kid’s grit. Others nudge caution, favoring subtle wins over bold gestures. All agree the nephew’s voice trumps all, a hard-won crown for a young survivor.

gen_petra − NTA. The *survivor* gets to choose how they celebrate their remission. Congrats to your nephew!!!. Anyone who makes someone else's cancer about *their* suffering is a massive AH. Period.

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mazfly − NTA. You're giving autonomy to a child who desperately needs that after parents and doctors making decisions for him. There are so many other ways of getting closure other than ringing the bell

knightofunderpants − NTA. Your sister's 'what about meee?' attitude is mildly infuriating. Everyone copes with things differently and I bet the doctors and nurses would just be happy to see him recover. ETA: I realize I may have come off a little cold to a mother with a sick child, but I still think the kid's wishes should come first.

WebbieVanderquack − NAH. I actually think this is between your sister and her son. It sounds like you also have a very clear idea of what sort of person your nephew is and what you'd like him to do, and I think both you and your sister need to let your nephew decide. But you need to approach this really sensitively with your sister

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because she's the mother, and she's been through a lot. I'm not a huge fan of the 'flipping off the camera' thing, because it will seem like he's disrespecting the ward itself as opposed to flipping off cancer, and the ward has saved his life. Don't push him into that because you 'really think he'd get a kick out of it' when in reality you'd get a kick out of it.

West-Leg-719 − NTA. First of all I am so happy that he is doing well with treatments. Now, Your nephew had the cancer so he gets to choose how he says goodbye to it. It is understandable that your sister wants the moment of relief and closure but at the end of the day it’s selfish to put that kid through more agony than what he has already gone through. Personally I love your video idea lol

que_he_hecho − I know his mother and the entire family have been incredibly stressed, going through a real hell, and want closure on this sad chapter of his life with the hope to never again have to schedule a chemo treatment.

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Know who else has been suffering? Your nephew! This is *his* battle. He has the lead role in this craptacular experience. And if he doesn't want to ring a bell he has *earned* the right not to ring that bell. If he wants to pose for a photo flipping it off instead, well he has *earned* that right.. NTA

Saltynut99 − NTA. I get that as a single mom having to deal with this especially the last year with the panini was hard but she needs to put his needs before her desires. If it’s that important, maybe she could let the doctors and nurses say a quick goodbye in the room in small groups so he doesn’t feel o**rwhelmed (if he even wants that) . I definitely think you should get a video of him flipping off the cancer sign.

QueasyAllday − NTA! Jesus...I had hodgkin's in my teens, I'm a huge introvert, the bell thing isn't a thing in my country but I would have hated it (not saying it's a bad idea but not my thing for sure) I also refused to take part to a lot of things (activities, celebrations, etc) during treatment at the hospital because I didn't want to get involved and wanted to move on.

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Plus it's crucial to feel some sort of control over your body at this time. I know people mean well but it's not up to them. The whole 'I need closure' from the mom is just... I don't know, I understand the feeling but she needs to find a way to do that without forcing her kid to do something he doesn't want to. It's not about her.. Congrats to your nephew!

mazel-tov-cocktail − NTA. I'm almost 10 years in remission from stage IV Hodgkin's and absolutely did not want to ring the bell. I was the youngest person in the cancer center (but an adult just out of college) and already felt all eyes on me once other people realized I wasn't there to take care of a parent or grandparent.

Blessedly, the nurse on staff quietly asked me on my last day of chemo if I'd want fanfare. I said hellllll no. For me, it seemed like tempting fate. I knew intellectually that it was ridiculous, but emotionally I didn't want anything anything that might bring some cosmic jeopardy to my survivorship.

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That's not an altogether too uncommon sentiment for people nearing the end of their treatment. I'm sure caregiving has been hell for your SIL, but she needs to find closure in a way that does not involve your nephew. It's not about her.

MollyMohawk1985 − NTA. If its that important to your sister, why doesn't she ring the bell? I say this as a mother to a medically special needs child with a rare birth defect. My own has already gone thru more in his 3 years of life than most people do their entire lives. The last thing I would ever want to do is put him in a situation that brings him down.

But also... watching your child take on battles you can hardly endure yourself does feel like a win when they win. By all means, your sister should ring that bell to celebrate her journey too, but not force your nephew into something he doesn't want.

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Alternatively you could also maybe buy a special bell (find a really neat one at an antique store!) For her. And give her permission to ring it whenever she is grateful for what she has. Make it something sweet for her. Maybe nephew could help find one too? (Ebay, etsy etc). Also good for you for stepping up. Your and your hubs are great guys.

This saga blends a boy’s brave fight, a family’s strain, and a clash of needs. An 11-year-old, wise beyond his years, shuns the remission bell, backed by his uncle, a rock since dad bailed. His mom’s ache for a big finish stings, but the kid’s quiet stand steals the show. A cheeky flip-off photo tempts as a rebel yell to cancer. Share your thoughts, feelings, or tales. How would you cheer this young badass through his win?

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