Page 112
Forty-Eight
Three weeks later
Riley’s eyes hopped from a fog-embraced castle to miles of emerald green hillside overlooking a serene blue sea. The breathtaking images housed in rustic wood frames felt more travel agency than cancer center, but it made a refreshing change from the usual prim watercolor paintings found in most hospital settings.
“I’m guessing Ireland?” Riley turned to Maggie, sitting beside her in the doctor’s office, its cheery robin’s egg blue chairs further underlining the ‘We’re not a medical center’ décor.
“Hmm, it looks like something out of Lairds, so I’m going with Scotland. Wherever it is, we should add it to our dream tour itinerary.” Maggie scratched at the soft fuzz growing underneath her head scarf. “I bet Ben would know where it is. Have you heard from him?”
“Just a text saying to message when we’re done. If he doesn’t answer right away, he’s in his audition.”
“I hope he gets the part,” said Maggie. “It’s a good sign he’s been called back twic—”
“Maggie, sorry to keep you waiting.” A familiar face above a pristine lab coat slipped into the office and closed the door. Carrying a file folder thick with papers, Maggie’s oncologist, Dr. McLoughlin, sat down at her small desk. “It’s great to see you and Riley.” She logged into her computer and opened the folder, her chin dipping toward the top page. “How’s your summer been?”
“Good, too muggy for my liking, but that’s New York.” Maggie shrugged while Riley nodded in agreement, her knee jittering under the tote bag lying on her lap.
“Yeah, coming from Arizona, I never get used to the humidity here.” Dr. McLoughlin looked up from her paperwork, poker face in full effect. “Well, the results came back for your scans and blood work. The cancer in your liver hasn’t spread, but I’m afraid it has grown slightly—”
“Grown…?” Riley’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion. “But—” Third time lucky…
“So, what does that mean?” Maggie reached over the armrest, her warm hand enveloping Riley’s.
“Well, we have options.” Dr. McLoughlin nodded. “We can try a clinical trial for a new drug, but…I’ll be honest, its success hasn’t been proven with your type of cancer. If you decide to try it, we’ll weigh the benefits against risks and side effects—”
“Sorry, wait.” Avoiding Riley’s stare, Maggie jumped in. “In April, the cancer was advanced. I could live with it…but now, what does a slight change in size really mean? Is it…?”
Is it…what? Riley’s eyes darted from her mom to the oncologist.
“Maggie…” The oncologist shifted in her chair. “The cancer has grown, but it hasn’t spread beyond your liver. If it does, we’ll make you comfortable for as long as possible. We’ll relieve your symptoms, control your pain…”
“You’re…” Maggie’s voice cracked. “You’re…talking about palliative care?”
Palliative—what?! No! A vice clenched Riley’s stomach, its suffocating squeeze traveling higher and higher. Her mouth fell slack as words—jagged, horrific, life-changing words—burned the back of her throat, unable to escape. Symptom relief…pain control? Palliative care? Isn’t that just a fancy way of saying, ‘Sorry, there’s nothing we can do’?
Dr. McLoughlin didn’t nod, didn’t shake her head. Her lips pressed together, like they were unwilling to surrender the inevitable.
Say it. Riley swallowed, but the thickness wouldn’t budge. It’s easy. Just say NO, it’s not palliative!
“Yes, but there are…”
Yes?! Riley clenched her Mom’s hand. “No…no,” she choked out, her lungs desperately fighting for air, but it felt thin and nonexistent, like all the oxygen had been sucked from the room, like she was going under.
She swore her heart stopped.
For how long, she had no clue.
Valuable seconds with her mom…
…one…
…by…
…one…
…slipping away, vanishing…gone—lost forever. Memories flashed and then twisted, fading into a dizzying spiral of thoughts, drowning her…
How long until…? A year, six months…one month?
