“You motherfucker.”
“What? You think I can take your big ass down with my fist? I’m barely one ninety and that’s soaking wet.” Bastard. “Look, I took care of everything, didn’t I? I insisted that they put you two in the same room. At first, they refused, but when I told Dr. Zi that if you woke up after what you’d been through, and Saylor wasn’t there that you’d lose your shit . . . well, let’s just say he made it happen.”
I look over at Saylor again, knowing Shady is right. There’s no telling the damage I would have done. I want to thank Shady, but Dr. Zi walks in and smiles when he sees me.
“Well, Dirk. Looks like you took a pretty nasty hit to the back of the head. You want to press charges?” he asks, and I don’t hesitate.
“Yes.” The doctor laughs and takes a seat in the chair next to me. I don’t like that he’s getting so close. It tells me that what he is about to say is important.
“The treatment didn’t work, Dirk.” I just stare at him and he looks down, avoiding my gaze. “We ran an MRI on Saylor, and the seizure was caused because the tumor has grown.” I think I’m going to puke, and reach over to grab the bottle of water Shady has between his fingers.
“We’re stopping the treatment, and it will take about a week for the last of the chemo to get out of her system. After that, her hair will start growing back and the other side effects will stop too.”
Hell, that’s wonderful news. I don’t understand why he looks so upset. I know they had a lot riding on this, hoping that it would work, but I can tell by the sadness in the doctor’s eyes that this has nothing to do with the loss of funding for the new study.
“Give it to me straight, Doc. I can handle it.” And I would. I wouldn’t allow myself to panic anymore. I couldn’t. It almost cost Saylor her life the last time I did.
He looks me dead in the eye, not bothering to hide the emotion in them. “If Saylor manages to live another two months, it will be a miracle, but not one we wish for. The position of the tumor is crucial, and if it grows any more, she will lose her eyesight. If it grows beyond that, she will lose her ability to communicate verbally. And beyond that, depending on which direction it spreads, it could affect her movement, her hearing, and possibly her memory.”
The thought of Saylor not being able to see wouldn’t affect me in the least. I would still get to look at her every day. If she couldn’t see and couldn’t talk, I could still talk to her and watch her smile and laugh. If she lost her mobility, I would carry her everywhere, but if she lost her memory, I would lose her.
“So, if we don’t wish for a miracle, what do we wish for?” I’m asking for his answer because I can’t bring myself to process my own.
“Judging by the rapid growth, and her health, my best guess would be two weeks before we start to notice a decline in her health.” Two weeks. Fourteen days. Three hundred and thirty-six hours. That was all the time Saylor had left to live in her current condition. And one of those weeks, seven of those days, 113 of those hours, would be enduring the fading side effects of her last chemo treatment.
There was no positive outcome in this scenario. Either Saylor lived longer and suffered more, or lived less with minimal suffering. And there was no way for us to choose.
The doctor puts his hand on my shoulder, and I meet his eyes. Pain, sorrow, and pity are there. And this time, I don’t mind it because it’s well deserved. “I’m sorry, Dirk.” He stands to leave and I can’t help but cry out to him with one more desperate question.
“Is there anything we can do?” He offers me a sad smile and a one-word answer.
“Pray.”
25
“SHADY, I NEED a minute,” I say, only moments after the doctor left me alone with my thoughts. He nods and walks out. I feel the burn in my eyes and the sob building in my throat. It’s just before escaping when I hear her sweet voice.
“You know, Samson lost his vision too.” I turn to see Saylor on her side, her hand shoved under her cheek, studying me. Apparently, the anesthetic they gave her to help her rest wore off. And it did so just in time to hear the doctor tell me her fate.
“There’s nothing to be scared of, Dirk,” she says, and despite the circumstances, she smiles, bringing light to the darkness that is clouded around me. “If I can’t see, it will heighten my other senses and I’ll be able to appreciate more about you than your good looks.”
I give her the smile she deserves, and listen as she continues to comfort me when it should be the other way around. “If I can’t talk, you’ll get to say all the things I never gave you time to say before.” I laugh and shake my head, completely amazed that she has the ability to bring me joy when all I want to feel is sorrow.