{∅, {∅}, {∅, {∅}}} : Rage Against the Meat Grinder

My father treats me in an okayish manner these days. Once ,I must have been 12 then,
we were traveling through a forest in a car( mum,dad and I).
I was suffering from cough and cold and was being reluctant to take medication for some reason I don't quite remember.Just being stubborn maybe.
Anyway,my father said to me that I had better take the meds and get well soon ,and if I didn't take meds and deteriorated,well ,they don't have the time to foster me back to health.They will dump me/my body (if I died of sickness) right there in the middle of the wilderness and go about their business as usual.
I was not even a teenager then and possessed no philosophical knowledge as you can guess.
I felt incredibly hurt then but looking back at the incident I think he did me a world of good in that he let me know my worth to me quite early in life.
Now, I no longer care.Like Herr Kaspar,I would love to crawl to a dark corner and die.