Neevah heaves an exasperated sigh. “So maybe there was some stress, yeah, but nothing I couldn’t handle.”
“I’m sure you’re aware stress is one of the main triggers for flare-ups,” Dr. Baines says. “In talking with your rheumatologists, we suspect your lupus diagnosis has evolved and we may need to broaden the original assessment of what we’re dealing with.”
The corners of Neevah’s eyes tighten. “What does that mean?”
“We won’t know for sure until we see the results of the biopsy,” Dr. Baines says, hesitation obvious in his voice. “Neevah, all signs indicate you’re not just dealing with discoid lupus, but possibly nephritis. Probably systemic lupus, but again, I don’t feel comfortable confirming that until we get the biopsy results.”
Neevah draws a sharp breath, and her fingers tighten around mine, but I don’t give any indication I see her fear. I stroke along the ink decorating her thumb, hoping I can offer some measure of comfort even silently. I’m trying to remain as calm as possible, but inwardly, panic takes off like a runner, sprinting past reason. Evan’s voice echoes in my head and I hear him telling us just this morning that systemic lupus is the life-threatening one, and what a relief that’s not what Neevah has. I’d never heard someone use the phrase systemic lupus until today, and they’re suddenly the most important words in the world.
“No.” Neevah shakes her head, her wig going a little more askew. “Dr. Ansford said . . . she told me it was discoid.”
“And based on the information your body presented to her a few years ago, even four months ago, that diagnosis was appropriate,” Dr. Baines says. “But a lot has happened over the last four months, and things can escalate very quickly. We can’t say for sure until after the biopsy, so let’s go ahead and get it done so we can see what comes back.”
“Okay.” Neevah stares at the bed with wide, unfocused eyes, like she’s looking at something none of us can see, and I guess she is. Takira and I are here for her, but it’s her body.
It shocks me that I would literally put myself in her place if it meant sparing her the possible road ahead, but the truth of it hits me standing by her bed and watching the fear soak into her eyes. I felt this way with my mom over and over. Watching MS steal so much from her, feeling helpless, but wanting to be strong for her. I don’t know what those test results will tell us, but I do know what it’s like to walk a hard road with someone you love.
I’ve done it before. I can do it again.