Chapter Three
Lizzy gripped Michael’s hand in the waiting room as they waited for the oncologist’s team to call her name. She scanned the room. A woman huddled in the corner by herself. A scarf wrapped around her head and her cheeks appeared sunken in. Another lady proudly showed off her bald head and wore a pink sweatshirt with breast cancer survivor embroidered across the chest. A man sat in the middle of the room with his wife, clearly uncomfortable.
The medical assistant opened the door and smiled as she called, “Mr. Carpenter.” The man rose and pecked his spouse on the cheek. She whispered furiously in his direction, and he shook his head. After the initial surprise that the man fought the disease, Lizzy knew exactly how he felt. He wanted to keep his wife from any pain. Michael leaned over and kissed the side of her head.
“Remember our promise. We’re in this together,” he murmured.
Another nurse came into the waiting room. “Elizabeth Jacobson.”
She stood, licked her lips, gathered her purse and began to follow the nurse down the hallway. Her stomach twisted in knots, and her heart beat faster. The urge to turn and run from the room, denying the reality of the situation, tugged at her. Michael’s arm tightened around her waist in a comforting gesture.
“We need to get your weight and vitals and then Dr. Safder will be in to talk to you,” she instructed.
Lizzy stepped on the scale while the woman wrote on her chart and directed her into a room. She never realized how dismal these office walls seemed and made a mental note to inform the new administrator who took over her old job. It screamed of hopelessness and despair to her.
She held out her arm as the nurse checked her blood pressure and oxygen levels. When she finished going over Lizzy’s list of allergies, she turned to leave. “Dr. Safder won’t be long.”
Michael stroked her back, consoling her as she tried to breathe in through her nose and out her mouth. Her palms felt sweaty, and she rubbed them up and down her pantsuit.
The door opened and a beautiful Indian woman with brown hair and warm green eyes greeted her.
“Hello, Elizabeth. I’m Dr. Safder. I received the images from your doctor, and we’ll discuss the results together. Why don’t I go over what we know and then I’ll answer any questions you have?”
Michael stuck his hand out, “I’m Michael and will be coming to Lizzy’s appointments, we signed all the HIPPA forms, so I can stay informed of her medical records.”
The physician smiled and shook his hand. “I’m pleased to meet you. I know this feels like an uncertain time for both of you. Hopefully, today will relieve some of your concerns.”
Picking up Lizzy’s hand, he gripped it tightly as Dr. Safder slid out the slides of the ultrasound and placed them on the wall.
“From your history, I know you previously had a lumpectomy. The biopsy report shows the tumor on your left breast measured at 5 centimeters. It’s grade one, which means it’s slowly growing.” She waited, giving Lizzy time to absorb the information.
Michael pulled Lizzy closer to him to shield her from the news. “What treatment plan do you suggest?” Michael stared at the doctor as he steeled his voice to take charge.
For once, she happily let him because she struggled to find her voice or gather her thoughts to ask the questions she had been mulling over all morning.
“Due to your history, I recommend you consider a mastectomy of the left breast, or both. It’s a personal preference. There’s no indication of anything on the right side. It’s a precautionary method. While you’re in surgery, we’ll remove the lymph nodes on the left side. When we get the results, we’ll determine the necessity of chemo or radiation. I can give you the name of an excellent plastic surgeon if you’re interested in breast reconstruction. You don’t need to decide this minute, but we’ll want to move soon. What questions can I answer for you?”
Lizzy raised her fear-filled eyes to Michael. “What’s the survival rate?” she asked quietly.
“Stage two breast cancer is highly treatable. The five-year survival rate remains around the ninety-five-percentile range with multiple therapy treatments,” Dr. Safder answered patiently.
Releasing the breath she didn’t realize she held, she asked, “Can I take a day or two to process this? I don’t want to rush my decision.”
“Yes, take a day or two to decide how you want to proceed. Elizabeth, as always, there are risks with procedures. I’ll send you home some pamphlets. I’m sure you’ll think of more questions once you leave the office, call anytime. If I can’t reply, my nurses will reach out. I know this seems like a ton of information and it’s overwhelming. You may want to get a second opinion. We’ll help you get everything set up.” Dr. Safder handed Michael a stack of brochures while Lizzy clung to his hand. He never let it go as he took the paperwork.
They walked down the hallway and checked out with the receptionist. Escorting her to the car, he opened the door, and waited until she settled. Entering on the driver’s side, he then drove out of the parking lot. Silently making their way through Seattle, he held her hand in his lap. He pulled up to her condo and helped her out. Lizzy numbly strode through the door as Michael held it open.
“What do we want for lunch? I put some flyers in the kitchen for the new Italian restaurant on the corner. There’s a coupon somewhere…” her voice faltered as she opened the drawers and shut them, frantically searching for a menu.
Setting the paperwork on the table, he ambled into the room. “I’ll take care of our meal. Why don’t we discuss the options Dr. Safder provided us with and weigh the pros and cons? The receptionist gave us the number to the scheduler who’ll contact the surgical center to make your appointment once we decide.” He cautiously approached her.
“I’m fine. The doctor said I can take time to browse over the information. I’ll read it over this evening and review my options,” she answered cheerfully.
Michael’s forehead wrinkled as he studied her, confused by her reaction.
“I thought we might go over the material together. There’re risks to consider. If you require chemo and radiation, do we want to see an OBGYN to discuss harvesting your eggs? How do you feel about a mastectomy?” Michael shot off questions, not realizing how each one pierced her chest like a bullet. She needed time to absorb all of this in her head.
“Last time I checked, this is still my body. Therefore, it’s my decision on how I want to handle this. I don’t need you to direct me on what to research and who I should contact,” she gritted out.
Michael’s brow rose at her response to his queries. “I’ll go check in at the office. If you want me to grab anything for dinner on my way back or go to the grocery store, call me.” He turned and exited the door.
Lizzy watched as he left. As if her body became hypersensitive, she heard the ticking of the hand on the clock above the kitchen door, the refrigerator kicked on and the hum seemed to run throughout her core. She opened the fridge door and took out a wrapped package of deli meat, a tomato, lettuce, and an avocado. She rinsed everything off and grabbed the cutting board to slice the fruit. Why did this happen to her? She jogged three times a week, she ate healthy, rarely drank, and didn’t smoke. She never ate fast food. She prepared meals in advance of a heavy workload to avoid getting tempted by junk food. Then why did she get this horrible disease? What about Michael? If she thought the scar from a lumpectomy might scare him off, what happened when she returned with an entire breast completely missing, or both?
She slammed the knife onto the counter and slid to the floor. It wasn’t fair. She survived her childhood going from foster home to foster home. Lizzy made her way through college while working two jobs and landed the position at Seattle Health and poured her heart and soul into it. When Chase approached her about taking on his military hospital, she felt excited at the new challenge. Now she had already called out more than she did at her last employer. Chase and Kassie required someone consistent to handle the requirements and codes for the medical institution. They couldn’t hold her job forever. She pounded against the cabinets letting her rage take over at the unfairness of it all. Hot tears ran down her cheeks as she sobbed out her frustration. She never even heard Michael enter the kitchen.
Strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her into his chest. “Shhh, Lizzy. I’m right here.” Sitting on the floor, they shed the tears they’d hid from each other. He kissed her hair and locked her body in with his legs. The fear for their future hung in the air.