27
Abigail
“Iunderstand you didn’t want to remove both of your breasts last time.” Doctor Rhett sits on the stool in front of me and Nixon, trying desperately to detach his grief and guilt for the patients he’s losing every time he turns. Marcie hasn’t been buried yet, but now he’s back on my case. “I understand your reasons for it. But it’s time. We can get onto this fast, and clear everything out.”
“I won’t have any breasts left?”
His Adam’s apple bobs, then he shakes his head. “No. But we can have reconstructive surgery. This has been an option all along, Ab. We’ll take care of this, get rid of the old, make sure you’re nice and healthy, then I’ll have my colleague come in and give you new breasts.”
I clutch Nixon’s hand and squeeze as hard as I can. “But they won’t be mine.”
He shakes his head.
“I won’t be able to breastfeed my babies.”
Again, he shakes his head.
“Chemotherapy?”Please no chemotherapy. I can’t take more.“Right?”
He nods. “After surgery, we’ll run you through a three-month course of chemotherapy. It doesn’t appear to have spread to your lymph nodes as yet, so this is good news. It was amazing luck that you brought your tests forward. This won’t be as bad as last time.”
“But… three months of chemo?” A lone tear slides over my cheek as another of my dreams is dashed. “Three months is an accelerated dose.”
He nods.
“I’ll never have babies, will I? I’ll never be able to have them, and even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to feed them from my own breasts.”
His eyes drop. “That’s not a definite outcome, Abby. Your first round didn’t render you infertile.”
“But a second, accelerated dose will.” I look down to my fingers twined with Nix’s, and cry for the future I’ll never have. For the future Spencer will never have if he stays with me. “And even if I could, it would be cruel to pass on these genes. I would never purposely have a daughter and watch her go throughthis.” Angrily, I point at my useless chest. “I wouldn’t put that on her.”
“We should take this one day at a time. For now, we schedule surgery and take the first step in ridding your body of this disease.”
“How long do we have to wait?” Nix asks.
Mitch stands behind us, and Beckett beside him. Corey is here too, he rushed away from work to come be with me, and Beck said that Troy is on his way. It’s like old times again.
“We… uh…” Rhett stumbles on his words. “Normally it would take a little longer. We have tests to run, protocols to follow, but seeing as Abigail has a history here, and we already know a lot of our answers, we, uh…” His eyes meet mine. “We can take her in tomorrow at nine, and get this done.”
“Tomorrow?” Corey balks. “So soon? That’s not enough time to decide.”
“We had a space open up.” Rhett chokes on his words when my soft tears turn to a painful cry.
That space was Marcie’s; they were going to go in and try to remove her tumor. I’ll be taking her room, her bed, her surgery slot.
“I’m sorry this is happening again, Ab. Truly I am.” He looks to Mitchell. “We caught this early. We’re lucky that it was caught so early, so let’s be thankful for that rainbow in this crappy storm. Let’s ride on the fact that we know and can take care of it. Living is our primary objective right now. The rest can be fixed later.”
* * *
My phone rings…
And rings…
And rings.
One call from Spencer. Two calls. Two dozen calls. But I ignore each and every one.
I’ve been admitted into the hospital already, my diet has been given to the kitchen staff – no food after midnight – and my surgery has been scheduled for first thing tomorrow.