the gene, but there’s also a fifty percent chance they don’t. Until we know for sure, you need to try to not let this affect you. I know that’s easier said than done, but there’s no point when there may not be a reason to worry.” He pauses. “I’d also like to test Lindsay and Aubree.”
There’s nothing the doctor can say that will make me not worry. Even if there’s only a one percent chance that I could have passed this horrible disease onto my children, it’s too much. I won’t relax until we know for sure. It’s one thing for me to have a terminal illness. It’s another for my kids to have it.
Swallowing against the huge lump in my throat, I nod anyway.
“I wish I had better news to give you both,” he continues. “For now, Molly, I’d like you to come in every other week so we can monitor your symptoms and treat them the best we can. This is going to be hard on you, but we’ll do everything we can to make you as comfortable as possible. Luckily, my colleague has some experience with this disease, so I’ll be in constant contact with him each step of the way. I’d actually like to bring him in during one of your visits, if you agree.”
“Okay,” I answer stoically.
“And I highly encourage you to get a second opinion. At my request, the tests were run multiple times, but I always suggest getting a second opinion with such a serious diagnosis.”
I trust Dr. Becker with my life, which is ironic because my life is literally hanging in the balance. He’s been my doctor since I was a child, so I know he wouldn’t give me this news unless he was one hundred percent sure.
“Lincoln,” he turns his eyes to my husband, “this is going to be tough for you as well. I’m going to give you my personal number. If anything should happen after office hours, please call me.” He writes something down on a sticky note and hands it to Lincoln. “You can also use it if you just want to talk.
Lincoln nods grimly and stuffs the note in his pocket.
“You both need to remember you’re not going through this alone. Lean on the family you have. The situation is devastating, but don’t let it ruin the time you have left.”
The time you have left.
Two to five years.
Two-year mark. Possibly sooner.
The words have more tears appearing in my eyes.
Dr. Becker spends the next twenty minutes explaining in more detail the effects of GSS and what to expect. The symptoms I’ll suffer through scare me, and from the tightening of Lincoln’s hands in mine, he’s just as terrified.
Lincoln and I are both quiet as we get up from our chairs and leave Dr. Becker’s office. His hold on my hand doesn’t waver, though. It’s Lincoln who makes the appointment to get the kids, Lindsay, and Aubree tested.
Tomorrow. Then two weeks from then until we find out if I’ve essentially signed their early death warrant.
The thought is horrifying and too painful to consider at the moment, so I push it away.
As soon as we’re out the doors of the office, Lincoln yanks me into his arms, and I fall against his chest. There’s no chance I can hold back the loud sob that escapes my chest.
Death is already a scary thing to think about, but I always figured Lincoln and I would live to an old age. We’d watch our kids grow and become parents themselves. Then spoil our grandkids rotten. And if we were lucky, get to meet our great-grandchildren.
All of that is out of the question. I won’t be around for any of it. And what’s worse, Gray and Gemma may not be around either. All because of this deadly illness coursing through me.
“Shh….” Lincoln coos hoarsely in my ear and gently rubs my back. “We’ll get through this.” His voice cracks, like he’s barely hanging on to his own emotions.
My sobs become louder. I won’t get through this, and something tells me Lincoln won’t either.
Chapter Eleven
LINCOLN
Soft cries filter through the room, making my own eyes water not for the first time since the doctor gave us the news. Molly has her face buried in Nancy’s neck as the two women sob in each other’s arms. Douglas, who is sitting on the recliner, watches his wife and daughter grieve over something that hasn’t happened yet, but inevitably will. His expression is tortured.
Each person in this room will