Fighting To Stay Read Free Page B

stupid enough to fall for him.
    “I got into a fight with my ex. I’m fine. Now,” I pull my head from his hands. “Please put me out of my misery and tell me the results.”
    He stares at me a moment longer before shaking his head. “I’m sorry. That was very unprofessional of me, but you are my friend before my patient. Can you forgive me?”
    “Of course, I can. Seems I have to do that a lot lately,” I laugh nervously, trying my damnedest not to show the effect that little moment had on me.
    Garrett laughs. “Seems so.” His laughter falls away and the smile drops from his face. Taking a hold of my hands, he squeezes reassuringly. “It’s cancer. Stage Two B. That’s the bad news. The good news is that it is treatable. We caught it early enough that with treatment you have a higher prognosis of beating it.”
    My mouth drops open. In the past few days since the possibility was brought up, I’ve never once thought those words would ever be said. Honestly, I thought he was going to say that it was a clogged duct or a cyst, but I never believed it was cancer.
    “Are… What…” I try to ask all the questions in my head at once, but they do not seem to want to come out one at a time or even at all.
    “We will start chemo right away and consider radiation if chemo doesn’t seem to be having the desired effect we’d like to see. We’ll need to start you on a vitamin regimen that will help you keep your strength through the treatments. Once the treatments have concluded, we’ll remove the tissue where the lump is located and any other tissue that has been affected. The point here is we can treat it by acting now. You can survive this. You will survive this and I’ll do all I can to make sure you do.”
    “Are you talking to me as a doctor or friend again?” I try to joke to curb the tears wanting to fall.
    “How about we say friend for now?”
    “For now?”
    “This isn’t the time for that discussion.  Let’s get you scheduled for your port and set up treatment appointments. I, personally, will not be your oncologist, but my colleague and friend Robert Crosley will be. He’s like me and prefers to schedule in advance and try to keep them at the same times of the day. So you’ll have it all mapped out, know what to expect and when. Now as a result from the treatment many lose their hair, so don’t be shocked if you do as well. However, there are a rare few that do not, so you never know.”
    He continues to speak on about the side effects. He speaks about the possibilities of what could happen and what will be happening during each treatment, but my mind is frozen. All it can do is flash the word CANCER in neon dancing lights.
    “This has to be a joke,” I mumble.
    Garrett’s tender hand on my face breaks me from my thoughts and our eyes meet. “I’m so sorry, Donna. If I could change this, I would, but sadly, I can’t. I am here for you. I will be here whenever you need a friend or a doctor, if you will allow me to be. We can fight it together.”
    Standing abruptly, I run my hands down the front of my clothes. “I, uh, need to schedule the appointments and… um, I need to leave. I guess I need to tell my siblings.”
    “Do you want me to come with you?” Garrett asks nervously.
    “What?”
    “I can go with you for support, I mean if you want. I know it’s going to be hard on all three of you because cancer has already taken so much from you.”
    “You’d do that for me?” I ask shocked by his kindness.
    “You’d be surprised what I’d do for you,” he mutters.
    Shaking my head, this is all too much. I need some space. Some fresh air sounds good. “I think I can handle this, but thank you for your kind gesture. Can we schedule those appointments?”
    “Of course,” he answers, sounding almost disappointed.
    We walk out to the receptionist and she schedules the port implant and sets up the first of my treatments. My heart is hammering in my chest as I walk from the office.