Corner two hours after dropping her off, the smile she gave me, the one that made her eyes sparkle in surprise and happiness—it became another favorite as I guided my client to one of the corner tables and had my meeting, feeling Rose’s eyes on me the entire time.
I hadn’t been able to stay away after all.
The next day we were sitting at the ENT’s office again as he gave us more information about Rose’s sickness. He said everything the other doctor had said to Rose before, and whenever I cast a quick glance her way where she was sitting next to me, her eyes were glazed over. I didn’t know how much of it she actually heard. Her hands were grasping the arms of the chair in a white-knuckled grip, so I didn’t think my touch would be welcome. Instead, I asked every single question that came to my mind about her upcoming unavoidable surgery.
“After we see the results of your MRI and the CT scan, we’ll schedule your surgery.”
Rose cleared her throat and interrupted the doctor. “I’m sorry for interrupting you, but I’m claustrophobic—is there any way we can avoid the MRI scans if we already know from the samples that this is a CSF leak and I’m gonna have surgery anyway?”
“I’m afraid not, Mrs. Hawthorne. Since you didn’t have a head trauma or any other injuries that could cause a CSF leak, we need the MRI to see if…” The doctor’s eyes flicked to me and then back to Rose again. “We need to see if there are any tumors that would create pressure on the membrane and ultimately cause the leak. We’ll also need to see where exactly the leak is. We need to know everything before we can go in.”
My body tightened, my anger boiling over. A brain tumor?
Rose crossed her arms against her chest. “Can I have an open MRI? Is that possible?”
“I’m afraid the specific scan we need, the open MRIs can’t take.”
“Okay, I understand.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow and we’ll have a better game plan on what the next step will be.”
Much to Rose’s and my horror, they managed to squeeze her in for the MRI and the CT scan as soon as we were out of the doctor’s office. We took the elevator down to get to the radiology department in complete silence. I didn’t need to ask her if she was okay; I already knew she wasn’t. I wasn’t either, but I still felt the need to hear her say something…anything. The doors opened and we got off after an older couple holding hands.
“Rose—”
Her eyes slid my way and then she quickly looked down. “Brain tumor sounds fun, huh? That was something I hadn’t thought of. Oh, there’s radiology.”
She didn’t even give me a chance to say anything, and in a few minutes she was guided into a small room where the radiologist, a young girl with round glasses and an easy smile, told her to take off her shoes, bra, jewelry, and belt along with any metal objects and place them in the secure locker. When she came out after a few minutes, she looked paler than she had when she’d gone in. Her hair was down in soft waves around her, the hair tie that had been holding it up gone.
I could only focus on the way her hands were trembling. When she noticed it herself, she hid them behind her back. I tried to catch her gaze more than a few times, but it looked like she was purposely avoiding me. The shimmer of tears in her eyes was another issue, and my chest tightened at the sight of her trying to be brave.
She followed the technician into the room, her steps faltering when she saw the tunnel-shaped machine. I watched as she hugged herself with one arm and then quickened her steps.
The technician was holding a weird contraption in her hands, waiting for Rose next to the machine.
“You can lie down on the table now. We’ll need to place this on your head so we can keep it stable in the machine.”
Rose stood still in her spot. “I…I’m a little claustrophobic. Is there any way we can skip that thing if I promise I won’t move my head?”
“I’m sorry, but we have to use it.”
A cage—it was a cage for her head.
Rose nodded but didn’t make a move to get on the table.
The technician pushed forward. “It’ll only take fifteen minutes or so to complete the scan,