ridding herself of the images of her daughter being that ill.
“Why is this taking so long, Marsha?” Jeannie asked. They had been gone for almost two hours when Jeannie noticed again.
“I don’t know. You know that’s all you do in these places is wait. It’s okay. Plus, you said they were doing a needle biopsy. That takes a while, Jeannie. ” Marsha reassured her and reached across the table to grab her hand.
Jeannie choked down half of her sandwich, drank her one coffee, and drank her second cup of coffee. That morning they explained to her how they would do the biopsy. It was a minor procedure they said but still, they had to put a needle in her daughters head. Worrying about that had her anxious to anxious to sit still. They finished up and went for a walk around the hospital. Later they sat outside and Jeannie paced the sidewalk. They headed back to the cafeteria for another cup of coffee when the buzzer rattled in Marsha’s pocket. After almost five hours of the waiting, the doctor was there to talk to her.
The long walk back to Lydia’s room was as if Jeannie was walking to her death. The anxiety of what she may face hit her hard. The heat of panic crept up on Jeannie as she started walking down the long hallway. The doctor was waiting outside Lydia’s room and asked them to come to his office. The excruciating walk to the doctor’s office was terrifying to Jeannie. She felt her heart beating in her ears and the panic of wanting to run to avoid any bad news entered her mind.
He pointed to a chair in front of his desk. “Sit down, Jeannie.”
“Do you want me to wait outside, honey?” Marsha asked reluctant to stay with Jeannie.
“No, please stay with me,” said Jeannie, as her voice quivered with fear. There was not another chair in the office so Marsha stood behind her, and put her hand on her shoulder. Jeannie reached up and patted her, to say she was going to be okay, though they both knew otherwise. Behind the doctor was a computer lit up with an image of a brain. Jeannie saw the name and the picture on his screen was Lydia’s brain.
“Mrs. Franklin, this isn’t easy to tell you. Believe me, the last thing I wanted to do was face you with this news. We did the MRI and a stereotactic needle biopsy we discussed earlier. Lydia has a glioblastoma multiforme. This is an aggressive form of cancer.” Jeannie swallowed and squeezed Marsha’s hand tighter.
Jeannie didn’t understand the severity of her daughter’s condition. “How soon can we get the tumor out?” The doctor hesitated and looked down at Lydia’s chart.
“Unfortunately, we can’t take it out. I don’t know what I can say for this to be easier for you. If you remember, it’s the same tumor Edward Kennedy had. We cannot operate on her. What we can do is start chemotherapy and radiation. It will buy her a little more time.” As he talked, Jeannie was becoming incoherent. Buy her a little more time. Jeannie began crying and shaking. It was like one of those dreams that you wanted to wake up from, but couldn’t.
“What kind of time are we looking at?” she was able to get out. She had to know how much time she had with her daughter. The fear and panic welled up in her body. She couldn’t breathe. The pain she felt was incredible. Yes, losing Vince was a nightmare. This was being thrown in the depths of hell.
“I’m not sure, with chemo, a year or less. It’s hard to tell with a teenager. We have seen cases where they live two years and I have had cases of three months. I don’t want to tell you something to make you feel better. There is no feeling better and no use telling you she will pull through this. It’s going to be rough and Lydia is in for a grim ending. She’s been suffering for quite some time and not telling anyone,” said the doctor. Jeannie hoped she had heard him wrong, a year. What was he saying? She had twelve more months with her daughter, if she was lucky. This means one more Halloween, one more Thanksgiving, and one more Christmas. Lydia didn’t tell her how bad she was suffering. The thought was like a knife stabbing her in her heart. Why? Was she that consumed with her