Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 118459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
It feels like I’m watching this conversation from another dimension. I hear the words coming out of my mouth, but it doesn’t feel like I’m saying them. My entire body feels so vacant. Numb. I remember feeling this after Gage died. People would talk to me and I wouldn’t hear them. They’d sit beside me and I wouldn’t even notice. They’d cry on my shoulder and I’d just pat their back and then they’d leave, wiping their tears.
“Basically, the tumor has already started to spread, which means the cancer isn’t located in only one spot. That’s bad for a couple of reasons, one of which is that they can’t just go in and remove it.”
He dips his head. I hear him take a deep breath and release it. I know he’s processing what I’m saying but I just go on, ready to get the words out and leave them in the air. He can do with them whatever he wants. I don’t even know what to do with them right now.
My daughter has cancer.
My hand trembles as I pick up a pamphlet. “Dr. Perkins said that it’s an aggressive form, so the treatment needs to start right away. There’s a plan in this folder if you want to read it. I just . . .” My sight gets blurry, Crew’s face muddled through the tears clouding my vision.
“Jules . . .”
I wipe my face with the back of my hand. “But here’s the thing . . . there’s a new therapy out right now. It’s been very effective in kids under six. They want to get Ever in the testing group.”
“Where will that be done?”
“In Boston.”
“So that’s in addition to the chemo?”
“I’m honestly not sure, Crew. There’s so much information. I just feel like I’m drowning in terms and dates and definitions right now. I should have taken notes or something.”
“Is it leukemia?”
“No. It’s called neuroblastoma. I don’t know if that’s better or worse . . .” My voice cracks, the events of the day finally starting to catch up with me. “I feel so stupid, Crew. I don’t even know what they said after the word ‘cancer.’ I must’ve sat there with a stupid look on my face.”
I start to cry, but he doesn’t come toward me. He just pulls his eyebrows in together and watches me like I might throw something at him.
“I’m failing her at every turn. I should’ve taken her in earlier. I should’ve—”
“What you should do is shut up,” he says, standing tall. “You’re rambling right now and that isn’t going to help. None of this is your fault, do you hear me?” He takes a few steps in my direction, his head dipped. “Not your fault.”
“I’m scared. No, I’m terrified. I don’t know how to deal with this.”
“I know, Jules. But let’s try to focus on what we can do,” he says, his voice full of more conviction than his eyes. “So this trial will help?”
“This trial is our saving grace, I think. I keep repeating what Dr. Perkins said; the trial will be more like a nuclear bomb instead of a drawn-out war. That’s how he explained it.” I move to the table and sit down, my legs feeling weak. “I’m so scared, Crew. Their faces when they explained the diagnosis . . .” I shiver and Crew reaches out and places a hand on my shoulder. I gaze at the wall, at the peeling wallpaper. “This trial is the only thing holding me together right now. The only thing giving me hope. The doctors really think this will work and will work quickly. Or that’s how I took it anyway. Maybe I wanted to take it that way, I don’t know.”
“So when does that start?”
“They’re just waiting on the insurance to approve it and then the doctor in charge of that will basically take over Ever’s care. Dr. Perkins assured me that they’re the best of the best. In the meantime, we go back for some blood work and another scan tomorrow. We start the treatment after that.”
“So, they seem optimistic?”
“They do.” I wipe at the tears with the hem of my shirt. “They had a panel of doctors go over her results today and they seem very confident that we have a good ‘game plan.’ The therapy is what they talked about the most.”
“Are you going to need help getting to the hospital or anything? I can’t miss too much work, but Will is on a different shift than I am. I know he’d jump in if you need him.”
“I’ll figure it out.” I look at his pocket, knowing my water notice is in there. I feel like such a burden to him. I wish more than ever that Gage was here . . . for all of us. “I’ll take care of my water bill this week, too.”