I Remember (Remembrance Series) (8 page)

“I’m Dr. Scanlon. I did the bronchoscopy on your husband, William. He did well through the procedure and is currently undergoing the scan, which will take about an hour. Afterward, he will be in recovery for at least another hour or so, until the grogginess wears off.”

I was too apprehensive to wait for Mom’s next question. “Did you find anything? Any reason for his weakness or why he is having trouble swallowing?”

Mom and I held hands tightly as we waited for a response.

“We found a growth in his throat. It isn’t very large but could be causing some of his difficulty swallowing. We biopsied it and sent it off to the lab. It doesn’t look to be anything serious, but there was an area to the side of it that is questionable and we sampled that, as well. Basically, we want to err on the side of caution.”

“How soon will they know the results of the biopsy and the scans?” Mom questioned.

“We have a rush order on both and should know something either by the end of today or at the latest, tomorrow morning. We took photos while we were in there and I will be conferring with my colleagues and with his primary physician, Dr. Hayward.”

He extended his hand, to shake ours. “It was a pleasure meeting you both. We will do everything we can to figure out what is going on and try to determine the best treatment options. You should take this opportunity to go get some lunch, since he will be resting awhile.”

In unison we said, “Thank you, doctor.”

We decided to go to the hospital cafeteria in case Dad woke up early. Mom and I were both relieved that the main tests were over, but the word ‘growth’ was haunting.

We sat quietly as we ate. “I’m sure everything is going to be fine, Mom. You know Dad, he is stubborn; he will get through this just fine.”

“I know. Just worried about how weak he is.” Anxiety showed in her face.

I gave her hand a squeeze. “Let’s just focus on a positive outcome and not worry about anything until we have to.” I attempted a smile, but wasn’t sure if I was convincing.

We ate quickly and then proceeded back to the waiting area. The receptionist told us he had just been moved back to his room.

Dad was already awake when we walked in. “See, I made it through the test just fine.” He smiled, but I could tell he was just as scared as we were. “Did they find anything?”

“Only that you are as tough as nails.” I tried to be reassuring.

Mom gave him a gentle hug and sat down at his bedside to hold his hand. “Honey, they found a small area that they were not sure about and decided to biopsy it. They should know something soon, but told us not to worry.”

Dad nodded. Then he started looking around the room. “Wow, this is one beautiful room. I never realized how creative they were with the decorating, until now.”

Mom and I looked at each other in confusion. “What are you talking about, William? This is a hospital room.”

“I guess the effects of the anesthetic haven’t worn off, yet; but I’m seeing the most picturesque trees and a meadow. It’s so peaceful and inviting.” He pointed toward the corner of the room.

I tried to keep myself composed. I looked into Mom’s eyes and saw the same fear.

Before either of us could speak, he looked above my head and sucked in a surprised breath. He spoke in awe. “Jordan, you have the most breath-taking aura I have ever seen. It looks like angels are gravitating toward you.”

“What are you talking about, Dad?” His words were beginning to scare me and I could see Mom was just as frightened as I was.

“The most majestic blonde angel is keeping watch over you, while other angels make brief appearances, smiling and then leaving. It is truly breathtaking to watch.” He threw me a quick smile.

“William, I think maybe that anesthetic is playing with your mind. Do you know what day it is or where we are?” Mom squeezed his hand tightly.

“You’re right. I know I am seeing things I shouldn’t. I realize we are in the hospital, but everything is so spectacular. Today is Friday, February 12
^th
, right?”

“That’s right,” we both said in unison.

Dad lifted mom’s hand to his lips and gave it a quick kiss and a squeeze. He then turned my direction and asked, “Don’t you have plans this weekend?”

“I’ve cancelled them, Dad.”

“Why? I’m going to be just fine.”

“I know you will, but I would rather spend my Valentine’s surrounded by the people I love. I’ve never felt comfortable talking with Thomas and, while Alley had offered a double date solution, the idea just did not sit well with me.”

“There must be a reason you are getting such a strong objection. Always best to go with your intuition.” Dad’s words rang true and I saw my mother nod in agreement.

“So, are you here for the day or the weekend?”

I stood up, crossed the room and took Dad’s other hand. “I’m here for as long as you need me. Right now we are focusing on just the weekend.”

I hated leaving the hospital, but I needed to get away and decided to take a little drive and clear my head. I was grateful we hadn’t heard any news, but still felt darkness looming on the horizon. I just couldn’t shake the images of my dream.

My mind was off in a million different directions thinking about those strange visions my dad was having and how uneasy they made me feel.

Suddenly the light changed to red and I slammed on the brakes, causing my purse to fly off the seat and spill its contents on the floor.
I need to pay more attention
.

I headed back to the hospital and, after finding a parking spot close to the entrance, I collected the contents of my purse. To my surprise, a small piece of paper with Gregory’s phone number was on top.
You will need to call him soon.

My heart skipped a beat at the thought of speaking with him again. We really didn’t know anything and I was not in a talkative mood, so I stuffed it back into my purse. As soon as I walked in, I heard Dr. Scanlon and Dr. Hayward talking about his test results.

“Both Dr. Hayward and I reviewed the photos, the results from the biopsy and compared the two scans. The shading from the original medical scan, taken after the melanoma was removed, was not a machine error. In fact, it was an early sign of a couple of growths. The latest scan shows the tumors have enlarged and metastasized and there is now one in your lung and one in your liver. And the one in your throat is larger than we first realized.”

Dr. Scanlon’s words hit me like a ton of bricks. The air left my lungs and I struggled to remember how to breathe.

I shot a glance at my dad’s face, which looked like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle. Mom looked puzzled, like she was trying to form a question, but had no voice.

I recovered quickly and tried to focus on the health issues at hand.

“What stage does the biopsy indicate? How large are the growths and are they operable? Is this what is causing his weakness and inability to swallow? What treatments do you suggest?” I knew I could come up with at least a hundred questions, but tried to refrain from asking too many.

Dr. Scanlon answered, “The growth is pharyngeal cancer, or more commonly known as cancer of the throat. That growth is in stage 4. The other’s, based on the imaging, we’re estimating at stage 3.

“Due to their size and your dad’s weakened condition, we are unable to operate. The best options we can recommend are to try chemotherapy and radiation therapy in hopes of stopping the progression and possibly reducing the tumors size, so we can operate at a later time.”

All of my nightmares had now become my reality.

We all sat there in silence, looking at one another trying to find the right words to say, but we were all in shock.

Dr. Hayward came over and laid his hand on Dad’s shoulder looking between him and my mother with caring eyes. “William, Marilyn, I am not going to beat around the bush, here. This is very serious, as Dr. Scanlon has pointed out. There are some treatment options that you need to consider and decide what you feel most comfortable with.”

After sitting there, dumbfounded, for a few minutes, I finally asked, “Will chemo and radiation therapy work or could it hasten things, given his weakened condition? What exactly is the prognosis?”

Dr. Hayward took a deep breath before answering. “Truthfully, we don’t know. He could respond well to treatment or it could weaken him even further. To proceed with treatment, we may be looking at a few extra months, maybe even years. To do nothing, we are estimating maybe six months to a year, at best.”

“But, if the cancer responds to the therapies, why only a few years? Wouldn’t you be able to operate and remove it?”

“I wish I could say there would be more time. However, these growths, especially at the stages they are in, typically do not respond well to treatment and are often inoperable.” Dr. Hayward’s face looked very grim.

Dad spoke up, very determined, “Doctor, I want to do whatever I can to get better. My wife and daughter need me and I want to be around for them.”

“Dad, we need you, too. But we want what is best for you.”

“William, you have a lot to think about,” said Dr. Hayward. Remember that treatment has no guarantee of working and could have the reverse effect of shortening your life, given the current conditions. We can try and do what we can or, if you choose to do nothing, we can try to make you as comfortable, as possible.

“This is not the news you were looking for and we have most likely given you more than you wanted to think about, today. What we’ll do is give you the weekend to think things over and then see how you would like to proceed and go from there.

“I will check in with you in a day or so. If you need me in the mean time for anything, please let the nurses know and they will contact me.”

Dr. Scanlon reached out his hand to shake each of ours. Dr. Hayward followed suit and they both turned and left.

I only saw horror on Mom’s face. Dad looked panic stricken and I felt like my heart had been ripped out. None of us had been prepared for what we heard.

It felt like hours, not minutes, went by before anyone spoke.

“I knew something was wrong with me, though I didn’t realize how far it had gotten. Maybe I should have gone to the doctor, earlier. My chances of beating this thing might have been better. Why didn’t I listen to both of you?” His voice was wavering and I could tell that the news was finally sinking in.

“William, don’t blame yourself. I should’ve been more insistent that you see someone. We will get through this somehow, and face whatever comes. The most important thing is that you are comfortable and out of pain.” Mom’s tone was soothing and comforting.

“Mom’s right. We will get through this. We love you and want only what is best for you. So please, don’t put us first; think about yourself and your needs. We will support and stand behind whatever decisions you make.” My voice may have sounded reassuring; but my insides were turning to quicksand, and I was struggling to get out of this nightmare.

No one spoke anymore of the news we had received. We only stared at each other and held hands, hoping for a miracle to save us from this terrifying ordeal.

Neither my mother, nor I, felt like eating dinner that night, despite my dad’s pleas to get some food into our systems. I only wanted to spend as much time as I could with him. It appeared that my mom had the same thought.

We finally left the hospital late and headed straight home. Once inside the house, we turned to each other and broke down.

All I could do was look up at her. “What do we do?”

“All we can do, Jordan, is hope for a miracle.” Mom’s eyes started to form tears at the corners.

“He’s going to give up, isn’t he?” I hated myself for asking the question, but knew Dad all too well.

“Yes. He said when it was his time, he was ready. The odds are not in his favor. I don’t want that, but I can’t bear to see him in pain.” Her words made sense.

I hugged mom a bit closer, realizing just how much our lives were about to change.

I fell into a restless slumber where my nightmare revolved around my father. The sinister voice spoke out in admonition
“You didn’t heed my warning. You sought him out and now your life will be forever changed.”
My only comfort came from Gregory’s voice.
“I’m here for you, Jordan. We will get through this together.”

After an exhaustive night, the morning brought with it an overwhelming sense of dread. We needed to go to the hospital to visit, but I cringed at what Dad’s outlook would be; wondering if he would be angry, in denial or depressed.

There were several issues that needed to be addressed and, since the hospital was a touchy zone for conversation, I figured the best time to talk with my mom was over breakfast.

I played with my cereal, bobbing it in the milk. “Mom? Would you mind if I made a quick run home tomorrow, to pick up some work clothes and a few things I might need?”

“What are you thinking, Jordan?”

“If it is okay with you, I would like to commute from here to work every day.

Before she could object, I laid a hand on her arm, squeezing it gently. “I need this. I want all the time I can get.”

My mother placed her other hand on top of mine, “I would like that. I’m sure he will, too; but you know he is going to be opposed to you driving so much every day.”

“I know. He has my best interest at heart. But, if I don’t do this, I’m not sure I can make it through.” Tears came streaming from my eyes. I tried to fight them back but the reality of everything had set in and there was no way around the grief.

Mom let me get my cry out and reminded me to put on a “happy” face at the hospital.

“We can each drive to the hospital, tomorrow. I will probably leave around lunch time. I’m going to be here for as long as I need to be. If I need to take some time off, I will work something out with Caroline,” I spoke, very reassuringly.

“It will be nice having you home, again.”

“How are we supposed to act around Dad?”

“Pretend that nothing has changed. Show your support, let him know you love him, but don’t talk about what we learned, yesterday, or discuss the options. Let him be the one to bring things up.”