Chapter 32 #3
Then I remembered the pain, and it wasn’t the pain you could ignore politely.
It had been sudden and tight, like a hand closing around my chest, and I remembered placing my palm there as if pressure could solve it.
I remembered refusing to acknowledge it out loud.
Then my muscles had started pulling against themselves, and my body had done something I didn’t give it permission to do… It had collapsed.
I moved my fingers slowly, then my wrist, then my arm, testing whether my body was back under my command. Everything responded, but my head still felt heavy, and that irritated me.
I tried to sit up, my man at my side intervened. “Mrs. Mensah, take it slow. They said your pressure dropped earlier.”
“I’m fine,” I replied automatically, but the sentence didn’t feel solid when it left my mouth, and I noticed that, and I didn’t like noticing it.
I settled back against the pillow and looked around the room again. There was a tray table pushed to the side, a chair with a blanket folded neatly on it, and a monitor on the wall displaying numbers I didn’t care to read. I didn’t like the idea of my body being reduced to numbers on a screen.
“How long have I been here?” I asked.
He answered with the kind of honesty that didn’t exaggerate. “A few hours. You landed, they checked you in through emergency, and they brought you up here once they said you were stable.”
“A few hours,” I repeated, letting the information sit.
I looked at my men again. “Has anyone been allowed in here?”
“No, ma’am. Only staff. Trust me, we kept it controlled.”
“Good,” I said.
A nurse walked in a moment later with a tablet in her hand and a calm expression on her face. She didn’t look startled to see me awake, which told me she’d been doing this long enough not to flinch around powerful people.
“Mrs. Mensah,” she said, professional and polite, “I’m going to check your vitals and ask you a few questions.”
I didn’t answer her with warmth, but I gave her permission with my stillness.
She checked the cuff, looked at the monitor, and asked me if I was dizzy, if I felt pain or if I felt short of breath. And it all sounded strange.
“I need to know what the hell is going on,” I said directly.
She nodded. “You had multiple fainting episodes, and you had muscle spasms. It can take a while for your body to settle.”
“What caused it?” I asked.
“We’re still figuring that out,” she replied carefully. “The doctor will explain the results of the tests they’ve done so far.”
I watched her face. She was composed, but there was a carefulness in her tone that I didn’t like.
“What tests?” I asked.
She glanced at the tablet. “They did an EKG, blood work, and imaging.”
“Imaging,” I repeated.
“Yes,” she said. “A chest X ray, and they also did a CT scan because of your symptoms.”
My eyes narrowed slightly. “They scanned me.”
“They wanted to rule out dangerous causes,” she answered. “Things like a blood clot in the lungs can cause chest symptoms and fainting, and they take that seriously.”
I didn’t like being treated like an emergency.
The nurse finished checking what she needed, then looked at me again.
“I’m going to let the doctor know you’re awake,” she said.
“Do that,” I replied, and I didn’t add please.
After she left, I stared at the ceiling and tried to get ahead of the situation the way I always did. I didn’t like uncertainty, and I didn’t like being caught off guard. My entire life was built around controlling outcomes. Waking up attached to monitors was the opposite of that.
Finally, the door opened again, and a doctor stepped in, followed by the same nurse.
He was middle aged, calm, and dressed like someone who had spoken to every kind of person under the sun without losing his tone.
He introduced himself, then pulled a chair close to my bed and sat down so we were eye level, which was something I noticed immediately.
Doctors did that when they had something important to say.
“Mrs. Mensah,” he began, “I’m Dr. Alvarez. I’m glad you’re awake. How are you feeling right now?”
“I want to go home,” I said, because there was no point in wasting words.
He nodded once, like he expected that. “I hear you. Before you go anywhere, I want to explain what happened and what we found.”
“Explain,” I replied.
He spoke clearly, without dramatics. “You were on a flight when you developed chest discomfort and muscle spasms, and you fainted. Your team reported that you regained consciousness briefly, but you fainted again, so they diverted and got you emergency care. When someone has chest symptoms and fainting, we have to rule out serious causes, especially blood clots, heart rhythm problems, and things that can be life threatening if missed.”
I watched him closely. “Was it my heart?”
“We don’t see evidence of a heart attack,” he said. “Your EKG was reassuring, and your blood work doesn’t show heart damage. Your heart rhythm has been stable on the monitor since you got here.”
That should’ve been enough for me to sit up and demand discharge, but he wasn’t finished, and I could tell by the way he held his hands together.
“Then why am I still here?” I asked.
“Because you fainted multiple times,” he replied. “We also saw something on your imaging that we can’t ignore.”
My stomach tightened again. “What did you see.”
He didn’t dodge it. “The CT scan of your chest showed enlarged lymph nodes under one arm, and the radiologist also noted an area in the breast tissue that looked suspicious. Because of that, we did a focused exam, and we did an ultrasound.”
I held his gaze, unmoving. “Breast tissue.”
“Yes,” he said, his tone still professional. “During the exam, there was a firm lump felt in the breast on that same side, and the ultrasound confirms there is a mass there.”
The room stayed quiet for a moment, except for the monitor beeping in the background.
I didn’t respond right away because the sentence didn’t fit the image I had of myself. It didn’t fit the way people spoke about me, and it didn’t fit what I allowed myself to be. I didn’t think of my body as a place where something could grow without permission.
I forced my voice to remain calm. “So I have a lump?”
“Yes,” he said.
“And you’re telling me this because you think it’s cancer?” I replied, keeping the words clean.
He nodded slowly. “I’m telling you because it looks concerning, and because the lymph nodes we saw can be connected. I can’t diagnose cancer based on imaging alone. The only way to confirm is a biopsy, which means taking a small sample of the tissue and having it examined.”
I stared at him, then at the nurse, then back at him again.
“So you don’t know?” I asked.
“We don’t know yet,” he replied. “But we’re concerned enough that we’re recommending you move quickly.”
I could feel anger rising, but it wasn’t anger at him. It was anger at my body, at the timing and at the way life had the nerve to put this in front of me after the day I’d just had. I had finally closed one chapter, and now another one was opening in my face like a threat.
I kept my voice controlled. “How long has it been there.”
“That’s hard to determine,” he said. “Some masses grow slowly, some grow faster. Many people don’t notice them early, especially if they’re busy, and it doesn’t mean you did anything wrong.”
“I don’t need reassurance,” I replied.
He accepted that without offense. “Understood. What I can tell you is that the imaging raises concern, and the next step is a biopsy. We can coordinate with your private doctor and any specialists you prefer, but delaying it isn’t in your best interest.”
I leaned back slightly, keeping my face neutral even though my chest felt tight again.
The nurse stood quietly, waiting, as if she already understood that I wasn’t a woman who processed news out loud.
“How does fainting lead to this?” I asked, because I wanted the logic to be clear to me.
He answered like a doctor explaining something without talking down to me.
“Your fainting and spasms brought you in, and your symptoms required us to look at your heart and lungs. The CT scan was ordered to rule out dangerous causes, and that scan includes the chest and nearby areas. Sometimes those scans show findings we weren’t looking for, and in your case it showed lymph nodes and breast tissue changes that needed attention.
That’s why we did a focused exam and ultrasound afterward. ”
“What about the spasms,” I asked.
“They can happen for different reasons,” he replied. “Adrenaline and stress can trigger muscle spasms, and fainting can follow a sudden drop in blood pressure, dehydration, and the body reacting to an intense event.”
I stared at him, then looked away toward the blank wall. The word cancer floated near my thoughts like something trying to attach itself, and I didn’t like it.
The doctor’s voice softened slightly, but he kept it professional.
“Right now, you’re stable, and your vitals are improving.
Our plan tonight is to continue monitoring because you fainted more than once, and we want to be sure it doesn’t happen again.
We also want to arrange the next steps for the biopsy as quickly as possible, either through our system or through your private team. ”
I turned back to him. “No one is to be told about this.”
He nodded. “Your care is confidential. We’ll keep information limited to the medical team involved.”
I held his gaze, making sure he understood the weight behind my words. “Limited means limited.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.
The doctor stood. “We’ll give you some time to rest,” he said. “The nurse will check on you regularly. If you feel chest pain again, if you feel dizzy, or if you feel like you might faint, I need you to tell them immediately.”
After he left, the room felt quieter, but my mind didn’t.
I stared at the ceiling and tried to place myself back in my own life, and back in my own control, but my body was reminding me that control had limits.
I thought about Pressure and Pluto and their children, and I thought about Kojo without allowing my mind to go too far, because the moment I let myself think about family, I could feel emotion rising again, and I wasn’t willing to lose composure in a hospital bed.
I brought my hand slowly to my chest, just to feel for myself.
I turned my head slightly toward my men and spoke in a low voice that carried authority.
“No calls,” I said. “No updates to anyone. If anyone asks, I’m resting and that’s all they’ll ever know until I decide otherwise.”
“Yes, ma’am,” my man replied immediately.
I closed my eyes for a moment, then opened them again, because I wasn’t going to sleep through this.
If my body was carrying something that could take me out, then I needed facts. I needed a plan, and I needed to move the way I always moved, which was quietly and on my terms.