Dr. Mulligan has always been nice to us. She’s Mom’s consultant and right from the get go she’s been understanding of our financial situation, and compassionate toward us.
Today she’s no different but I can tell there’s a shift in her concerns.
We’ve just taken our seats in her office after two hours of various tests
This is the second time we’ve met like this since we got the news. The first meeting was to layout the treatment plan.
Today was the first session of it where the medical team will be monitoring Mom on some stronger medication.
Mom and I sit together while Dr. Mulligan sits before us behind a large mahogany desk.
“I’m sorry for the amount of tests we’ve had to do today. I know they were intense,” Dr. Mulligan says looking from me to Mom.
“That’s okay,” Mom answers and straightens up.
I glance across at her. She’s worried and I know it’s hard for her to be here, allowing me to take the reins of control.
“I have some concerns from the results today,” Dr. Mulligan states and tucks a lock of her dark hair behind her ear. Her gray eyes become clouded when she looks at me.
“What concerns?” I ask.
“Blood pressure for one is a little worrying. It’s quite low. I think it’s probably to do with one of the new meds. We’ll have to keep an eye on that. The most worrying thing though is what I saw from the CT scan. It looks like the condition is getting worse. Yes we can continue as we are by managing the problem with medication and these outpatient sessions, but if finance wasn’t an issue I would highly recommend surgery at this point.”
Fuck… this is all I need to hear now to pour salt on my open wounds.
Tears track down Mom’s cheeks and I reach for her hand.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to cry,” Mom mutters and dabs at her eyes.
Dr. Mulligan hands her a box of Kleenex and she takes a tissue to wipe her face.
“Don’t apologize. I understand. I hate to be the bringer of bad news. It’s always hard when I see people trying their best. But I have to tell you these things so you’re aware. My worry is your arteries. The fatty deposits causing them to narrow and harden could cause blot clots, which can in turn result in a severe heart attack,” she explains.
“What is the likelihood of that happening?” I ask, steadying my hands to keep them from shaking.
She clasps her hands together and shakes her head. “I can’t say. Your mother’s condition is quite serious so there’s a chance it could happen. On the plus side we’re doing our best to keep a close watch. The problem is when a condition gets bad it opens the door for other things to go wrong.”
“It’s really bad… isn’t it?” Mom asks.
“Yes, but we’ll continue as we are. I’m not making any promises, but I can do my best to manage the situation for the next four to five months tops with the medication. After that I don’t think I’ll be able to. If you can assure me that we can aim for the surgery around February, I’d feel better knowing that’s in the works and we can get you booked in with a date.”
“Yes,” I answer for Mom. “I can assure you.” I nod with confidence and Mom looks to me, worried.
“Sweetie—”
“No,” I choke out cutting off her words. I try to hold back my own tears so I can be strong for her. “I’ll have the money by then.”
This isn’t about me anymore. It’s about her.
I’ll do what I have to.
My mother needs me, and that’s all the encouragement I need.
I have to forget James.
* * *
“You are so lucky,” Gaby bubbles. She’s one of the girls who fills in for Mimi on her nights off.