Bittersweet Catastrophe (Second Chances #2.5) Page 9

  “What are you doing?!”

  I leaned forward and kissed her lips. “Distracting you. What does it look like I’m doing?”

  “Well, mission accomplished! Jesus, Shayne, sit back down before…”

  “Mrs. Thompson.” A voice came from behind just as I was lifting my shirt. Shit. “I’m Dr. Ramesh, the general surgeon, and this must be your–”

  I quickly zipped up and rubbed my sweaty palms across my jeans before shaking his hand. “Husband,” I cleared my throat and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry about that.”

  “That’s quite all right. Although, I have to admit that’s a first for me,” he laughed, patting me on the back as he rounded the desk. “If you’ll have a seat, I’ll get started going over the pathology results of your wife’s biopsy.”

  He set the file down on the desk, and my heart sank, right down to the pit of my stomach. This was it. No going back now.

  “Mrs. Thompson, it appears the cells that were collected from your left breast were not cancerous, and the ultrasound showed no sign of a tumor being present.”

  A heavy breath rushed past my lips. Thank God! It was as if the weight of the world had just been lifted from my shoulders and we could all sit back and relax.

  “However…”

  And then my heart plummeted again. I quickly looked over at Liberty, sitting there stoically with her head hung low, as if the words were going in one ear and out the other.

  “The tests did come back positive for DCIS, which is short for ductal carcinoma in situ.”

  Frustrated, I cracked my knuckles and laced them behind my head. Why was it that doctors always assumed their patients understand the medical lingo? If I knew what the hell he was talking about, I’d probably have a damn medical degree myself. “In English, doc.”

  “All right, in plain terms,” he paused, rubbing his chin. “It’s not cancer…yet. The cells in question are located in the tissues of the milk ducts, and the good news is, it’s non-invasive and hasn’t spread to the surrounding tissue. These cells have a very high risk of developing into cancer, though. If left untreated, they can metastasize and spread to other areas of the body. Your wife is very lucky that she took the initiative to get it checked out right away.”

  The doctor’s eyes gravitated to Liberty, who still hadn’t spoken a word. “Do you have any questions before I continue, Mrs. Thompson?”

  She lifted her head, her face appearing sober and unfazed, and slowly swayed it from side to side. Had she not heard a single word he just said? I expected some kind of reaction out of her, but not this. She appeared almost…catatonic.

  Dr. Ramesh studied her for a moment, clearly confused by her lack of response to the bomb he’d just dropped in our laps, and nodded before continuing. “Well, let me go through your treatment options before we go any further. I know this is a lot of information to throw at you in a short amount of time, but the sooner we tackle this, the greater the chance you’ll have of making a full recovery.” He pulled open a drawer, retrieving a few pamphlets from his desk, and spread them out across his desk. “Our main goal is to ensure that we not only remove any trace of cancer, but prevent it from returning. The fact that the cells in your breast have not become cancerous yet leads me to believe that we won’t run into any issues later on.”

  Hearing all of that had eased some of the tension steadily building up inside of me, but he made no mention of Liberty’s pregnancy or how all of this would affect our babies, both now and in the long run. There was still so much uncertainty, with so many questions left unanswered.

  “What about the babies?” Liberty spoke up, as if she had read my mind.

  We both turned to her, surprised to finally hear her speak up, and the doctor’s expression softened. “Don’t worry,” he came around the front of his desk and leaned his hip against the ledge. He reached for her hand, a bold move on his part considering I was sitting right next to her, and gave it a gentle, encouraging squeeze. “I haven’t forgotten about them. Let me go through your treatment options first, and I’ll explain how everything will tie in together.”

  I watched her squeeze his hand back.

  A silent understanding.

  “Now, the first step we can take is to simply remove the pre-cancerous cells from your breast, but I’m going to be extremely blunt with you…there’s no guarantee that the cancer will not return.”

  “What,” Liberty swallowed audibly. “What is the other option?”

  “Due to the nature of recurrence, we most commonly perform a mastectomy as a preventative measure. Especially in younger patients.”

  Her hands slowly rose up, folding over her chest. She looked absolutely mortified, the color quickly draining from her beautiful face. He could’ve straight up said they were going to butcher her alive and still gotten the same reaction, because in my head, that was exactly what he had just told her. No point sugar coating it with his fancy medical jargon bullshit.

  “I know it sounds extreme, but I can assure you, Mrs. Thompson, that we have come a long way in the treatment of breast cancer. Reconstructive surgeons and plastic surgeons have made great advances in the last ten years alone, and I’m not trying to make light of the situation here, but seeing as you’re young and otherwise healthy, you’d be a perfect candidate for such a surgery.”

  “Re-reconstructive surgery?” Her brows pinched together, testing out the words. “You mean…”

  “You’re not obligated to go through with it, but some women find that reconstructive surgery can help improve your body image and self-esteem post-op, but that’s not always the case. I know you’ll be going through a range of emotions, both leading up to the surgery and after, so I want to make sure that you think this through before we come to a final decision.”

  “All right, just give me a minute. This…this is a lot for me to process.” She closed her eyes, and by the way she was frantically working her jaw, it was obvious that none of this was sitting well with her. Can you blame her? “You said that it isn’t cancer.”

  “That’s correct, but…”

  “You said that it isn’t cancer…” Her eyes flew open. “But now you’re telling me you want to take my b-breasts?”

  “Mrs. Thompson…”

  “Liberty.”

  “Liberty.” He smiled softly. “If you’ll allow me to explain the reconstructive process in more detail, I think it will ease some of your misgivings.”

  “Just hear him out, sweetheart.” I pulled my chair closer to her and cupped her cheek. Slipping into the brown pools of her eyes, I could see they were no longer void of emotion. She was scared, vulnerable, exposed; everything I’d have expected her to feel, but had yet to see so painfully evident until now. It was a relief to see her finally break out of her protective bubble and allow the words the doctor had been saying to fully sink in. “Please.”

  Liberty’s shoulders slouched, and she leaned back in her chair, giving the doctor her undivided attention. “I’m listening.”

  Dr. Ramesh darted his eyes over to me, and I nodded, urging him to continue. “I know how difficult it is hearing this for the first time, but breast reconstructive surgery is not as harsh as it sounds. In fact, it has one of the highest success rates of any reconstructive surgery. Now, the initial surgery will involve cutting the breast tissue away from the skin and muscle. In some cases, we’re able to leave the nipple and areola intact, but we’ll know more once we see the tissue inside and see exactly what we’re dealing with. The sooner we go ahead with surgery, the more likely we’ll be able to leave them intact.” He smiled briefly and went on. “Immediately after the breast tissue is removed, we’ll insert a tissue expander to re-stretch the skin and then finally an implant. Depending on whether or not you’ll need radiation, chemotherapy, or a combination of both, the entire process can be anywhere from one to six months. But once all is said and done, Liberty, the scarring will be minimal, and you’ll look as good as new.”

  Liberty’s face paled again, and t
his time I thought she might actually get sick. “You still haven’t said how all of this will affect the babies.”

  “You’re now going into your second trimester. Is that correct?” he asked, flipping through her file.

  She nodded.

  “That’s good to hear. The further you are into your pregnancy, the less likely they are to be affected by the treatments. Surgery won’t be an issue, and chemo during the second and third trimesters may be administered without necessarily harming them. Luckily, the placenta acts as a barrier between you and the babies, so some drugs cannot pass through this barrier or will pass through in very small amounts. However, I would be hesitant going through with radiation while you are pregnant. If it does turn out that radiation will be required, I would suggest holding off on having the surgery until the babies are born, just to be safe. Again, we won’t know for sure until the actual surgery takes place.”

  “Less likely to be affected?” she asked, looking nowhere in particular.

  “Liberty, sweetheart, he’s trying to say that you’re far enough along that you’ll be able to get started on treatment right away. We won’t have to wait months from now.”

  I smiled optimistically, hoping she would feel the same, but when her gaze settled on me, it wasn’t what I had expected. Tears flooded her eyes, and they weren’t the happy ones I’d been wishing for. “Shayne, are you not hearing what I’m hearing?”

  “Yes, I am, and it’s good news.” It was good news. I’d been so hung up on losing her these last few days, and finally I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. The doctor hadn’t just given us a sliver of hope. He’d given us the whole damn dessert tray!

  “How can you say that when he’ll be putting them at risk?” Her hand hovered over her stomach.

  “Baby, please, let’s talk this through before you let your mind run rampant.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about!” She pointed her finger at Dr. Ramesh, who was sitting there quietly watching this all unfold. “He wants to pump me full of poison to possibly save my life, while putting two more lives at risk. I can’t do that, Shayne. I won’t.”

  “Liberty, I do believe they are out of the woods where any major risks are concerned. Birth defects and miscarriages…those typically occur during the first trimester with chemo.” He crouched down beside her chair, appearing less threatening. “My main concern is to treat the patient as a whole, not just you, but your unborn children as well. I promise you,” he said, lowering his voice. “I wouldn’t suggest this if I didn’t think it was your best option.”

  “Do you have any children, Dr. Ramesh?”

  “I do.” He smiled proudly. “Two little girls.”

  Liberty sat forward, so that she was eye to eye with him. “I want your opinion, not as a doctor, but as a husband and father. If your wife was in the same position as I am now, would you still think that it was the best option?”

  He thought about that for a moment, mulling it over before he answered. “Yes. I would still think that it was the best option.”

  She toyed with her bottom lip, chewing on it nervously, and I could literally see the wheels turning in her head. “And what if I choose to wait?”

  What? Is she seriously suggesting… “Liberty, come on now. This isn’t something we can just wait out and see what happens. We know what will happen.”

  “Shayne, the babies…what if something happens…”

  “This is your life we’re talking about here! Not theirs!”

  Dr. Ramesh stepped in before I could argue any further. “If you’d like, I can give you two some time to think about this. Give it a few days and let your emotions come to terms with everything before you make any rash decisions. I know it’s a lot to handle, especially now that you have the twins to consider as well. The decision is up to you of course, but it’s best not to wait too long.”

  We didn’t need time to think it over. There was only one decision to be made, and I wasn’t budging. Not this time.

  I might’ve vowed to love her in sickness and in health, but I refused to sit by and watch my wife slowly slip away before my very eyes. I stared at her beautiful, sullen face, and the pleading look she gave me nearly broke me. I wanted to kiss her and shake her at the same time. Make her realize that whatever decision she made wouldn’t just affect her; it would affect all of us. She was given a second chance at life, one not many lived to see, and here she was blatantly throwing it away. How could she ask me to go along with this? It was suicide, for fuck’s sake!

  Liberty remained seated with her head bowed down as the doctor collected her file, leaving the pamphlets fanned out across the desk. His hand gripped my shoulder, and he tilted his head to the side, urging me to follow him out the door. He quietly shut it behind us and released a heavy sigh. I did the same, although I couldn’t say it helped any.

  “My wife was diagnosed with breast cancer when she was pregnant with our second daughter.” He leaned his head back against the wall, letting his eyes fall shut.

  My eyebrows shot up, his words catching me by surprise, and I wondered why he hadn’t mentioned this earlier.

  “It’s not something I typically share with patients, but I thought it might shed some light on your current situation.” He smiled, and I forced myself to crack a smile of my own.

  “Did she…” I dragged out, but I was sure he’d pick up on where I was going with this.

  “Did she choose to get treatment right away?” He turned, cocking an eyebrow at me, and huffed out a laugh. “No.”

  My head smacked the wall beside him with a loud thud. That wasn’t exactly the answer I’d been hoping for.

  “I did everything I could to convince her not to wait, but like your wife sitting in there, she’s a strong-minded woman, set in her ways. Some men might see that as a flaw, but me…it was one of the reasons I married her.” He chuckled softly. “The other being that she has one of the biggest hearts of any woman I’ve ever known and constantly puts others before herself. I swear, the woman doesn’t have a selfish bone in her body.”

  “Sounds like someone I know.” I grinned. “I assume everything worked out on your end.”

  He nodded. “Nina was one of the lucky ones. She was diagnosed early on, and her doctors kept a close watch on her condition. She ended up having a scheduled C-section eight weeks early and a double mastectomy immediately following that. It was a long, agonizing road, and watching her suffer through the treatments gutted me, but I have to count my blessings. I still have my beautiful wife and a healthy, rambunctious daughter to keep me on my toes.” The smile on his face grew wider, giving me hope.

  “Some days, I wonder what would have happened if she’d just gotten the treatment over with before Akira was born, but I’d be lying if I said waking up every morning to see the joyous smile on my daughter’s face didn’t solidify that my wife had made the right choice. I couldn’t imagine not having either one of them in my life. I can’t say it’s the right choice for everyone, and I understand where Liberty is coming from. Believe me, I do. There are too many ‘what ifs’ when there’s another life – or in your case, two – involved.”

  He pushed himself off the wall just as a nurse came over to let him know his next appointment was ready. Shaking his hand, I thanked him for his reassuring words of encouragement and let him know we’d call when we came to a final decision.

  “Give her some time. She might come around.” He smiled, giving me one last pat on the back, and turned to walk down the corridor.

  “And if she doesn’t?” I whispered, but my words fell on deaf ears.

  I waited there a moment, composing myself before I reentered the room. Liberty was exactly where I’d left her, her eyes glued to the floor with her hair forming a curtain around her face as a shield, and her tiny body trembled as a soft sob tore through her. Her hands were still protectively splayed over her stomach, and I sidled up to her, lacing our fingers together. When she finally lifted her head, a steady stream of tears ra
ined down her reddened cheeks, her eyes glistening with emotion.

  Suddenly, I felt like my chest was caving in on itself. My whole world was being swallowed up by the black hole that had taken up residence in my heart. Not a single word was uttered as we left the doctor’s office, but it was better that way, almost comforting. The word cancer wraps around you like a thorny branch, strangling free from you any ounce of hope you’d once had, and speaking the word, hearing it out loud, made this whole fucking nightmare that much more real.

  For just one moment, I wanted to pretend that none of this was real.

  An unnatural stillness encompassed us as we drove home, and it hadn’t left us as we stepped through the front door. I quietly shut it behind me, the wood creaking as I leaned the weight of my body against it, and watched Liberty make herself comfortable on the couch, flipping the TV on as if the last few hours never happened. Her eyes were still swollen and puffy, evidence of her heart breaking piece by fucking piece, but I knew it had nothing to do with the cancer. It was the possibility of losing the two precious lives we had waited so patiently for that had her warring with her emotions. Two lives we might very well have ripped away from us.

  Deafening silence hung heavily in the air, but for how long, I couldn’t have been sure. It was as if a wall had been built up between us the second we received the devastating news, and just the thought of bringing it up had my heart thundering in my chest.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat, and sank down into the soft, worn leather of the couch beside her. There really was no easy way to do this. “We need to talk.”

  “Talk about what?” The words came out lukewarm and unfeeling.

  Talk about what? So we were playing that game. Wonderful. “Liberty,” I said, stressing her name. She was attempting to put up that wall between us, but I wouldn’t let that happen.

  “What? There’s nothing to talk about, Shayne, so just drop it.” She went back to flipping through the channels. This was her third time around, and I couldn’t stand her so blatantly ignoring me. I snatched the remote from her and chucked it across the room, shattering the vase that held the dried sunflowers she carried on our wedding day. Shit.