“Most likely. You two are terrible.” I shake my head at them and leave the two of them alone. Ben is good for Drew. He gets his mind off things and relaxes when Ben is around. And Ben is coming around a whole lot these days.
The following week, Drew’s doctors deem him strong enough and ready for the surgery. The limbo I’ve been surviving in ends much too abruptly for my liking. But Drew is ready to get the dog and pony show on the road, as he says.
“Are you scared?” I ask him the night before.
“Not of the procedure itself. I’ve been through it once, so I know what to expect. I’m afraid they’ll either find more inside than the scans showed, or they won’t be able to grab it all.”
“I’ll be brave for the both of us,” I tell him, which is a big fat lie. I’m so afraid I can’t eat or sleep.
In the morning, we arrive at the hospital and things run as expected. My support team is there: Ben, Jenna, my parents, and Drew’s parents. Jenna holds my hand the whole time during the five-hour surgery, and Ben never sits down. As close as Jenna and I are, Ben and I have really bonded over the last month or so. He is every bit as worried and scared as I am. I glance at Letty and Ray and my heart plunges into my guts. I can’t imagine being in their shoes, having your only child go through cancer treatment like this. A sudden urge hits me and I run to Letty and throw myself at her, burying my face in her lap, my arms wrapped around her. She must think I’m a lunatic, but I can’t help myself.
Her arms wrap around me and we try to comfort each other. I’m not even sure how long we stay like this, but eventually Drew’s surgical team makes an appearance. Dr. Rosenberg also shows up, which is weird. This can’t be good.
The head surgeon, Dr. Sherman, leads the talk. “Surgery went well. Drew’s in recovery and he’ll be fine. We had to take the entire lung. It was peppered with mets. When we got into the lobe we thought was affected, we decided to check further and it soon became clear that we were dealing with a more aggressive situation here. We also had to resect more bone than we initially thought. So now it’s a wait and see.”
“So he can live with one lung, right?” I may sound stupid, but I don’t know these things.
“Oh, yeah. He’ll adapt. Most people only use a percentage of their lung capacity as it is.”
“Oh, okay. And what about more chemo?”
Dr. Rosenberg says, “We’re going to have to switch that again, since we didn’t get the results we sought. But we’ll discuss that after Drew recovers. Our goal now is to get him healed up after the surgery and out of the hospital.”
All of us, Ben, Letty, my parents, Jenna, and myself look like deer in the headlights. Everyone except Ray. Being a doctor, he knows what’s going on. He gets it. But I don’t want to ask. Because I want to bury my head in the sand and pretend none of this happened.
“When can we see him?”
Dr. Sherman says, “My recommendation is that you all go home and rest. Tomorrow morning will be soon enough. He won’t wake up for hours and when he does, he’ll still be sedated.”
“I remember that from the last time. Can I at least look at him?”
Dr. Sherman and Ray share a look. Ray says, “Cate, he’ll be on a ventilator. It might be better …”
I cut him off. “I don’t care. I just want to kiss him and touch his face. Tell him I love him. Then I’ll leave.”
Dr. Sherman says, “That should be fine. Ray, Cate, Letty, why don’t you come with me?”
He leads the way and we go into recovery. I’m shocked to see the tube going down Drew’s throat, but I refuse to let it show. I place my hand on his head and my cheek next to his for a moment. Then I tell him how much I love him and kiss his cheek. Letty does the same, followed by Ray.
When we get back to the waiting room, the tears I pushed away eke past my lids, but I won’t give in. Not yet. I hug Letty and Ray, and my parents. Then I turn to Jenna and Ben and ask, “You guys are staying with me, right?”
“Yep.”
And we head home, where I proceed to digest everything and then break down.
“Cate, maybe they got it all.”
“They had to take out his whole lung, Jenna. His prognosis wasn’t good to start.”
Jenna grabs my shoulders. “Stop it. Stop saying that.”
“I’m hoping for the best, but expecting the worst. It’s the only way I know to prepare because you can’t possibly understand what this man means to me.”
“She’s right Jenna. And I know, Cate.”
We both look at Ben and if eyes could speak a million words, his would do so right now. The grief written in them is so poignant, I automatically reach for him, and we cling to each other.
“Drew told me this was a roulette game and we all know the odds of that.” Then I feel his body shaking with silent sobs, and mine does the same thing.