Battle Scars
Call It In
Macy
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Navarro,” the oncologist says. “There’s nothing more we can do other than buy time or make you as comfortable as possible.”
“Oh, okay,” I reply quietly, trying my best to keep it together but really I’m falling apart inside.
“Can I do anything else for you?” he asks me.
“No. I think you covered it all,” I reply and my bestie quietly reaches over and grabs my hand where it’s folded lifeless in my lap squeezes my hand tight in hers.
“I am sorry,” he says again. “I wish I could have had different news.”
“I know.” Why does it feel like I’m consoling him? He’s not the one dying. I am.
“Take all the time that you need,” he says. “I’ll have my nurse give you pamphlets and we’re available any time if you have any questions while making your decisions.”
“Thank you.”
He pushes up from his chair behind his big fancy wooden desk and I hope to God that he doesn’t say that he’s sorry one more time.
I think I might scream if he does. Mari squeezes me again letting me know that she’s here with me, she’s got me, and I’m okay, for now.
I bite my lip and keep from saying something I don’t mean.
The doctor seems to see that I’m already struggling to keep it together and closes his mouth, thank God.
He walks past us and out the door and it feels like someone took a pin to my balloon and I deflate slowly.
I had thought this was our time. My dreams were finally all coming true. This is what I get for wanting more when I had more than most women dream of… so much more. I have a happy life and the perfect husband, so sweet and loving, not to mention handsome.
And in the blink of an eye it will all be gone. Well… not him, just me. I’m going to fade from the picture painted of our life together.
“I think it’s time we call it in,” Maria says gently.
I know she’s right, but I had hoped that my weird test results were just a fluke and there was no reason to call Gabriel home.
He’s worked so hard to get where he is in his career.
Any little thing could cost him his spot in raider and he lives for that team.
I never wanted to take it away from him. Now there’s no other choice.
“Do you know how to make the red cross call?” I ask my best friend.
“Yeah,” she says and I can hear her choking down her own emotions.
“Can you help me?”
“Of course,” she says.
“‘Kay,” I whisper. “Let’s go home and figure it out then.”
“Okay, querida.”