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)
“Don’t apologize. I understand and I don’t want to keep you. I just wanted to let you know that we are having a benefit for you at the park on Sunday. If you can come, that would be great. And if you can’t, that is no problem. There were a bunch of customers here that wanted to help out.”
My bottom lip quivers at the sentiment. I deliver these people coffee and pie and they care about my daughter?
“Thank you,” I whisper. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
She laughs. “No. We were going to set up an account for people to donate at one of the banks. Would that be okay?”
“Yes,” I barely choke out.
“It’s the least we can do, Julia. If you need anything else, please call me. Promise?”
“Yes.”
I wipe the tears away but they’re quickly replaced.
“I’ve gotta go get the pies out of the oven for the dinner crowd. If you need anything, anything at all, you call me.”
“I will. And thank you.”
“Take care of yourself and that little girl. We’re all praying for her.”
JULIA
I need to relax. I know this. But it’s impossible to do that in this situation to begin with, let alone while sitting in the hospital. The staff is constantly coming in. Every time the door opens, my heart races. I fear the worst every time a nurse or a doctor comes in. I feel like I’m on a roller coaster; every time I get to the bottom and begin to breathe easy, I’m shot back to the top of the tracks again.
I flip off the television and stretch my legs on the sofa. The late afternoon sun is warm and it feels good on my skin.
Ever is fast asleep in her bed, still a little woozy from the procedure. She wakes up and then dozes back off again, which the nurse says is normal and encouraged. We want her to get as much rest as possible today before the chemo starts tomorrow.
Dr. Perkins comes in, his white lab coat open and a chart in his hand.
He does a quick assessment of the room before setting his sights on me. “How are we doing?” he asks, his voice warm.
“As good as we can be, I guess.”
He sits in the chair by the bed and does a quick once-over of Ever. Then he turns to me.
“Everything went great today,” he says assuredly. “She’s a trooper.”
I try to smile back. My chest tightens as the anticipation of what he’s about to say builds. I’ve come to learn that every time I see him, it’s going to be bad or good. It’s like getting your check at work and seeing if you’ve gotten a bonus or not.
“She told us in recovery about how she’s a fighter. That cancer was going to be scared of her because she cut her hair.”
A small grin finally touches my face. “That’s what we told her.”
“That was smart. We’re going to need to keep building her up as we go through this process.” He sets the chart down and rests his elbows on his knees. “We’ll be starting the chemo tomorrow. We’ll use the port we installed today to give her the medicine. I wish I knew what to tell you to expect, but it really depends on the person.”
“Will she be sick?”
“Probably. We’ll just have to wait and see. Remember, this is a marathon, not a sprint. You have to think of this as war and we fight one battle at a time.”
He’s right, but I want that magic pill that will make this all better in one swoop.
“As far as the therapy goes that we discussed earlier . . .” His voice trails off. “I’ve personally appealed to the head of the trial and reviewed the appeal paperwork to the insurance company. I’m doing everything I can to get her in there. I want you to know that.”
I’m afraid to ask, but I must know. “What happens if we can’t? What then?”
“We have a panel of experts that have reviewed her case and we have a plan in place to treat her. The therapy is the best path, I won’t lie to you. We have a big fight on our hands, Julia. But there are lots of kids that don’t get approved and there are other options of treatment available.”
“They just aren’t as effective,” I whisper.
He nods slowly. “There are a couple of new trials taking place in New Mexico. I’m researching them, as well as putting out my feelers to my peers around the country.”
“I don’t get it. Don’t lots of kids get neuroblastoma?”
“They do. But Everleigh’s seems to be aggressive so I want to fight it as hard as possible. Also, this is the medical world. New things happen daily. I won’t let one stone go unturned. I promise you that.”