Each time, the nurse replied, “Your doctor’s in the OR. He’ll be around later this afternoon.”
“This afternoon?” Jess heard her voice rise. “Does that mean I’ll be staying another night?”
“Not necessarily but highly likely.”
For the first time since arriving at the hospital, Jess felt tears starting to well. “I miss my little boy.”
“It’s hard, isn’t it? I’ve got two boys—two and four—and they’re intense. Sometimes I think I’ll go mad if I don’t get some breathing space, but after a couple of hours away from them, I get all fidgety.” She patted Jess’s arm. “You look pretty washed out. Try and sleep.”
After the nurse left, Jess heard her talking to someone in the corridor and then Karen walked into the ward carrying a vase filled with vivid gerberas. Jess blinked, wondering if she was imagining her, but as her eyes came back into focus, it was definitely Karen. Surprise was followed by relief and this time, her tears spilled.
“Hello, Jess.”
“Hi,” she said thickly.
Karen set down the vase and rummaged through her handbag, producing a packet of travel tissues. “Here.”
“Thanks.” Jess wiped her face and blew her nose. “Sorry. It’s just I didn’t expect you or anyone else to come.”
“I would have come earlier, but I didn’t know you were here until Alice mentioned it around 9:00 last night.” Karen pulled out the visitor’s chair and sat facing her. “How are you?”
“Woozy. I’ve had an MRI and an ultrasound but the only thing I know for sure is I have a UTI. I’ve had them before but I’ve never felt this rotten.”
“Sounds like you’re in the best place then.”
Another wave of nausea rolled through Jess and she grabbed for the vomit bowl. She had so many questions she wanted to ask Karen—did Libby know she was visiting? Had Karen seen Leo this morning? Was Libby being kind to him? But instead she heard herself asking, “Why did you come?”
“Because no one should be alone in the hospital.”
Jess heaved, bringing up bitter yellow liquid.
Karen passed Jess a glass of water. “I’ll get the nurse.”
Jess rinsed and spat, trying to rid her mouth of the heavy metallic taste and then Karen was back, offering a damp face cloth. The nurse arrived with an injection to stop the vomiting and after that, Jess lay back and closed her eyes.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when the sounds of the curtain hooks whizzing around the metal rail roused her. Karen was still sitting beside the bed and Jess’s doctor was pulling up a second chair.
“Sorry to wake you,” he said.
“If it’s to tell me I can go home, then you’re forgiven.”
He gave a tight half-smile and looked inquiringly at Karen. “And you’re Jess’s mother?”
“No, just a friend.” Karen stood up. “I’ll give you some privacy and come back in a few minutes.”
“No.” Jess shot out her hand, catching Karen by the wrist, not totally understanding why but knowing implicitly she didn’t want to be alone. “Please stay.”
“Are you sure?”
“There’s no one else.”
Karen nodded wordlessly and sat down, sliding her book into her bag.
Dr. Jenkins cleared his throat. “As you know, we’ve been running some tests to work out if there’s more going on making you sick than just a urinary tract infection.”
“And is there?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
A chill raised goose bumps and her mouth dried. It was like she was seeing Doctor Jenkins for the first time since he’d appeared by her bed. On earlier visits, he’d been chatty but now the tone of his voice and the gravitas of his body language screamed bad news.
“Would you like me to explain the results to you now?”
No! Karen’s hand slid into hers and Jess felt the reassuring squeeze. Okay, so it was bad news, but bad news had a gradient. There was no reason to leap to catastrophe. Obviously, a doctor wasn’t going to joke about her needing surgery so why put off knowing? The sooner Jess knew how long she’d need off work to recuperate, the sooner she could set things in motion for Leo and contact Centrelink for income support and …
“Hit me with it.”
His shoulders tensed. “I’m sorry, Jess. The results tell us you have cancer.”
Cancer. The word flung itself around her head, slipping and sliding, banging and crashing. Instinctively she wanted to curl into a ball and hide. “Wh-what sort of cancer?” she heard herself ask, the words echoing back to her.
“Ovarian cancer.”
Thank God she’d already had Leo. “You’ll get it out of me by taking all my baby-making bits?”
He leaned slightly toward her. “I’m afraid it’s far more serious than that, Jess. The tumor’s spread to your liver, lungs, bowel and your spine.”
Over the noise in her head telling her that the surgeon couldn’t possibly remove all those body parts, Jess heard Karen gasp. “So, surgery and chemo?” Jess asked, remembering some of the stories from Relay for Life events. “Will you operate today or—”
“Jess,” Karen said firmly. “Let Dr. Jenkins explain.”
“I can see this is a huge shock,” he said. “I’m so very sorry, but at this point, you’ve passed the time when surgery, chemotherapy or radiotherapy can help you. We will do our absolute best to keep you comfortable, but now is the time to get your affairs in order.”
Jess saw his mouth moving and heard his words, but every part of her was screaming to reject them. “No! No! You don’t understand. I’m thirty-four. I’ve got a toddler to raise.”
“I’m sorry,” he said helplessly. “Ovarian cancer is like a sleeping giant. Often, by the time the symptoms are obvious it’s already too late. Sadly, this is what’s happened to you. I know it’s not fair and the next few weeks will be difficult but—”
“Weeks?” The room spun around her. “Are you saying that’s all I’ve got?”
“No one can predict exactly, Jess, but it’s looking very grim.”
“So, you could be wrong?”
“Based on my experience—”
“I want a second opinion!”
“Of course. I’ll arrange it.”
