Chapter 2
Chapter Two
T he next morning, I found myself sitting in a familiar patient room, my foot tapping nervously against the white-tiled floor. I stared blankly at faded paintings of birds on the wall opposite me.
“Julianna?” Dr. Billingsly poked his head through the door after a couple of courtesy knocks. I smiled as he entered. Dr. Billingsly’s mustache and the thin glasses on his nose twitched as he cleared his throat. “How are you today?”
I shifted uncomfortably. “I’m doing okay. How are you?”
He and I had done this same song and dance since I’d moved to Charlotte more than a decade ago. I could read him well, so I knew something was off when his gaze averted.
“I’m fine.” He rolled a small stool over and sat down right next to me with his tablet. Both things were new. “Let’s talk about your MRI results.”
A cold flush ran over me .
“Okay. What’s wrong?”
“I will be frank with you. Your luck has run out. Your scan revealed that two discs have significantly shifted since last year. They have herniated and are pressing against the nerves in your spine.”
I watched numbly as he brought up the recent images of my back on the tablet to explain where things were wrong. My increased pain hadn’t been lying to me. Fear washed over me as the reality of what he was saying settled in.
“You will need surgery to remove the part of the discs pressing on the nerves. As the herniations worsen, they will press on the spinal cord nerve bundles more, which is going to cause either increased numbness or extreme pain, perhaps even immobility. It’ll come upon you quickly.
” My breath hitched. These were facts I already knew, but knowing something and having it happen were two different occurrences.
He continued, “In your case, with the degeneration speed and the fusions you had done years ago at play, worsening could happen at any time. So your surgery needs to be a priority. Within the next couple of months.”
I was wringing my hands in my lap as I spoke. “Are you sure? You’re sure this can’t …heal?”
“I am sure. You’re welcome to seek a second opinion elsewhere, but the proof is right here in the scans. I am sorry, Julianna.”
A lump formed in my throat.
How could this be happening just when I was about to lose my health insurance?
“Is there any way to get it done within the next two weeks?” I whispered, trying to keep the tears from spilling. He smiled slightly under his mustache as if I’d made a joke, his face full of empathy.
“Well, no, I’m afraid not.” He dipped his head for a moment and then looked me in the eye once again. “There is another slight administrative issue with the surgery aspect of this. I am retiring at the end of this month. Your care will be transferred to Dr. Shaley.
“However, she will not begin until January 2, so there will be a gap. There are some legalities and such that won’t allow us to schedule surgery with her until she’s officially started.
But I feel like that might be pushing it with the timeline.
You need to be scheduled for surgery no later than November. ”
I’d never been without Dr. Billingsly’s expertise. Panic settled in. I trusted him. November was so close. Tears sprang to my eyes, but I quickly blinked them away. I could not break down in the doctor’s office.
“So what should I do?” I asked.
Dr. Billingsly took a deep breath and set down the tablet on the counter next to him.
“There are other orthopedic surgeons in the area who are undoubtedly able to do this procedure, and they might be willing to fit you in. But you’re a special case for me, Julianna.
We’ve been together since you came to Charlotte, and I want to see you with the best. I have someone I want to refer you to, but they aren’t in the city. ”
“Okay…”
“Roanoke,” he replied, clasping his hands together as he leaned his elbows on his knees.
“Doctor Bahar Kaveh is an osteopathic surgeon at Carilion Roanoke Memorial, and she would be perfect for your situation. I don’t want to take risks because of your previous work.
And I have the utmost confidence in Dr. Kaveh.
She’ll know how to handle your procedure best since she is up to date on the latest techniques.
I think you said you were from that area? ”
I swallowed hard and nodded. Roanoke, Virginia, was only four hours from Charlotte, so distance-wise, it was doable. But Roanoke was also only thirty minutes from Mill Creek. The small town where I’d grown up. I hadn’t been there since I left for college nearly fifteen years ago.
“Can I have some time to think before I decide?” My words came out shaky.
He nodded. “Of course.” I saw the kindness and concern in his eyes.
It was then that I remembered that either way this went, I’d never see him again.
I got to my feet and offered my hand to shake, which he accepted. I instantly regretted that I hadn’t hugged him, but I pushed the thought away. I didn’t want to seem too forward.
“You’ve been so kind and helpful to me. I hope you enjoy your retirement. I will miss seeing you every year.”
He smiled brightly. “Thank you. I will miss you as well. I hope you decide to pursue my suggestion. If you do, call. The front office has all the information for Dr. Kaveh and can schedule an intake appointment. Her office will schedule your surgery quickly. Sound good?”
“It does,” I replied with a nod.
“Take care, Julianna.”
After he left the room, I gathered my bag and began to process all he’d said.
There had never been a question of if I would need surgery again, but when .
I had chosen not to think about it in favor of living without anxiety.
While a worthy endeavor for my sanity, I was now faced with the reality of a necessary surgery, and there was no way I could pay for such a considerable procedure.
I sat behind the wheel of my old Subaru.
Like me, the vehicle was on its last legs.
The dashboard had been lit up like a Christmas tree for months, but I covered the lights with candid pictures of my Grams. There was an old snapshot of her, Whit, and me on a picnic at Mill Creek Park.
All the photos were of her smile and fun times that I wanted to remember.
I would only allow happy memories to cover my plethora of problems.
I felt the overwhelming urge to connect the moment I saw Grams’ face, so I called Kallie and explained everything that had happened with Dr. Billingsly. She did not speak until I finished.
“How are you not crying?” she asked.
“I think I’m in shock. The results are terrible. Losing my doctor sucks. And I just lost my job and insurance. Maybe the universe is telling me another surgery is wrong for me.”
“Um, no. You’re smarter than that. MRIs don’t lie.” The bell for the bakery rang in the background, and I heard a door shut as Kallie moved into her office. “This is a rough spot, but that doesn’t mean you don’t need the surgery.”
“I can’t afford it,” I said, picking at a loose leather spot on the steering wheel. “There is no way I can pay for something like this. I’ll have to wait until I get another job and get onto their medical.”
There was silence on the line. I knew what she would say even before the words tumbled from her lips.
“Call your brother.”
I sighed. “Stop it.”
“Call him, you stubborn woman!” Her voice was bordering on frantic. “I still can’t believe your brother is a multi-million-dollar professional football player, and you can’t bring yourself to ask him for one cent.”
“I’m not calling Whit. It’s not an option.”
Whit and I hadn’t had much of a relationship since Grams died, the same night Bram and I were in the vehicle accident.
Neither of her grandchildren had been with her when she passed away.
A neighbor had found her collapsed in the front yard while we were out at that Christmas party.
It was a fact neither of us wanted to remember.
Without any remaining family, our whole lives were turned upside down.
We forgot how to communicate with each other as we coped with Grams’ death.
I withdrew and deflected while he sought destruction and distraction.
I graduated from high school and moved to Charlotte for college.
Whit went back to college in Alabama after I graduated and kept busy with women, football, and who knows what else.
By the time the grief had become more manageable for me and Whit had his life back together, we had grown far apart.
We made time to see each other every few years and texted or called each other every few weeks.
He lived his life as a football celebrity in Utah, while I led a quiet existence in North Carolina. We never crossed paths.
“He’s always sending extravagant gifts. Why not parlay that into paying for surgery?”
It was true. As far apart as we were, he always sent me expensive things, like all-expense-paid vacations and one of those huge bookcases with the rolling ladder that took up my whole living room.
“He’s not even returned my last fifty calls.”
“I have a hard time believing you’ve called fifty times, and he’s never answered once.”
I grumbled. “Okay, fine, I called maybe twice. But I’m just saying he probably wouldn’t answer if I called right now.”
“Okay…then text him.”
I bit my lip as my back spasmed a little. “He has nothing to do with this. I won’t drag him into my issues.”
Kallie sighed.
“You two used to be super close?—”
“We were. But that relationship doesn’t exist without Grams. It doesn’t feel right to ask him for money. I wish I could explain it better, but it feels wrong.”
“He would give money to a stranger. He would help his sister. Hell, he might even rent you a private hospital. And a private doctor educated at whatever the best medical school is. You know he would, and it probably wouldn’t even dent his accounts.”