AS YOU CAN see from the test results, Dr. Ansell,” Francis Kerry said, sweeping his hand above the reams of data spread across his desk, “we have every reason to believe your heart has undergone a complete rejuvenation.” He sat back in his office chair and pushed his glasses up with a long bony forefinger.
From the armchair in front of his desk, Faith leaned forward to pick up an image of the echocardiogram that had been taken two hours earlier. Since the two prior scans had shown a thorough transformation of her heart muscle, just like this new one did, she suspected this additional imaging had been requested to rule out any sudden deterioration. After all, it would be a mistake to go off the immune suppressors and Cordarone if Kait’s healing had worn off and her heart had deteriorated again.
Which begged the question—did that ever happen, and if so, how often?
Dropping the film, she picked up the printout of the EKG she’d undergone two days before. The description confirmed a normal functioning heart—just as the reports on the transthoracic echocardiogram and Doppler echocardiogram had shown. The video taken of the ultrasound sessions had revealed the same as well.
A perfect. Normal. Heart.
For a moment, disbelief swelled, pressed against her chest. But it faded quickly. She’d had several days to acclimate to the possibility of miracles.
“What about the treadmill test?” Faith asked, rifling through the files, films, and printouts spread across the table. “I lost my breath pretty quickly during that. Isn’t that a sign of my heart not working properly?”
Okay, maybe she hadn’t accepted that she’d been the recipient of a miracle quite yet. There was a sliver of doubt remaining, a piece of her just waiting for the bad news to roll in.
“It can be, of course. But shortness of breath can also be due to a general lack of conditioning,” he said delicately.
Faith’s eyebrows rose. Had he just called her out of shape?
“With the exception of your breathlessness, the exercise stress test indicated a normally functioning heart. There were no irregularities in the blood flow or electrical rhythm.”
Which was doctor-speak for—Hey dummy, you’re out of breath because you’re out of shape. Get exercising, for Pete’s sake.
“So she can go off the cyclosporine, mycophenolate, and Cordarone?” Rawls asked.
Maybe he sensed the distance buffering her, because he leaned forward and covered the hand she had resting on the table with his. She tried to relax, to concentrate on the warmth of his hand, but the tension vibrating through her refused to back down.
“For now.” Dr. Kerry pushed back his office chair and stood up. “We’ll continue monitoring her. And it wouldn’t hurt to keep an emergency dose of Cordarone on hand just in case.”
Just in case what? In case Kait’s healing ultimately reversed and her heart failed again?
“So what are the long-term effects of this . . . healing?” Faith asked. “Has a healing eventually deteriorated? Is there a possibility all these miraculous findings could disappear and my old heart will return?” Faith asked.
Dr. Kerry laughed. “Admittedly Kait Winchester’s abilities are remarkable. But trust me, your heart’s transformation isn’t the result of some short-term magical spell. If her healings reflect the same outcome as William’s and One Bird’s—and I see no reason why they shouldn’t—your heart should remain at its current peak condition until normal aging kicks in.”
Should remain . . .
While the good doctor was babbling a convincing line of optimism, she couldn’t help noticing all the qualifiers he was throwing around.
“So what was my heart’s spontaneous restoration a result of?” At the baffled look he sent her, Faith frowned and rephrased. “I know Kait’s at the core of this . . . marvelous outcome . . . but you said it wasn’t a result of a magical spell, so what, exactly, was it a result of?”
Maybe if she had a better idea of how Kait had accomplished this phenomenon, it would be easier to believe that it had occurred and that the results would be lasting.
She could sense Rawls watching her. Did he think she was being a pessimist? Or God forbid, that she didn’t want to get better?