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Dr. Accardi returned to the foot of the bed and stood alongside Dr. Farina.
“I wanted to explain my preliminary diagnosis, and then Dr. Farina will explain how she intends to treat the condition.”
The emergency room doctor dismissed himself, leaving the attending physician alone with the family. The doctor waited until Isotta adjusted herself on the bed and sat up more so she could see them.
“We ran a number of tests on Mrs. Ricci based on how the patient presented in the emergency room. We now have those test results back and have the following diagnosis. Mrs. Ricci, you suffer from endometriosis.”
“Endometriosis? What is that?” Massimo asked.
“Endometriosis, in layman’s terms, is a condition where endometrial implants or lesions grow outside of the uterus instead of being encased inside,” the doctor explained.
“How does that happen?” Isotta asked, feeling somewhat confused by what the doctors were sharing.
“Excess estrogen and even the immune system may play a part in the development of this condition. It is even suspected that endometriosis is passed down from mother to female child.”
“The body is trying to shed what is normally discarded during menses, but because of the thickness of the uterine lining that it is trying to rid itself of, there is additional pain and discomfort that goes along with that. The pain can be significant, very significant,” the doctor continued, “as you’ve experienced, Mrs. Ricci?”
“Not only is there pain during menses, but there can also be pain before and after sexual intercourse, heavy periods with intense pain, pain in the abdomen, lower back, upper legs during the cycle, and finally infertility.”
“Infertility?” Isotta asked. That was one term she was familiar with.
“Yes, infertility,” the doctor answered. “I mention it because it is important for you to know the full diagnosis. However, that is one of the latter stages of the condition.
“So, am I infertile?” Isotta asked, sounds of worry emanating through her voice.
“No, Mrs. Ricci. You are not infertile. You are at risk of being infertile if your condition does not improve. It is a cautionary tale that must be told, but only in an informational capacity.”
Still, Isotta couldn’t get the doctor’s words out of her mind.
“What can be done about this endometriosis?” Massimo asked.
“Well, one of the other tests we want to run is a pelvic ultrasound, which will give us more information as to the stage of endometriosis Mrs. Ricci may be in. For now, we will continue to give you pain medication through the IV. Once you are prepared for discharge, then we will prescribe the solid form of the same medication for you to take when you get home. We may also prescribe birth control pills as a means of regulating your cycle. Mrs. Ricci. I understand that it has been rather unregular.”
“Yes, it has.” She answered.
“Hopefully, I answered your question, Mr. Ricci?”
“Yes, you did.”
“Well, if there are no other questions, I will be heading out. Mrs. Ricci, we will have the nurse readminister your medication within the next few hours.”
The doctor excused herself from the room. Rosa thanked her as she exited, and Dr. Farina acknowledged her thank you with a nod of her head. Massimo also watched as the doctor left, but he had no offer of thanks. He was riddled by what she said, what it meant, what it may have meant. There was something inside him, though, that wouldn’t allow him to verbalize what he thought, what he felt. Massimo felt like he should be there for Isotta, if only physically, as his mind was completely occupied. Isotta looked in the leaving doctor’s direction, but she didn’t focus on Dr. Farina. There was a part of Isotta that was grateful the pain she felt, the debilitating pain, was relieved with a promise of more relief to come. Yet, she couldn’t discount what the doctor prescribed as her condition. She had a name for the pain she felt, but she also had a feeling of dismay. Just considering the symptoms, the stages, the decreasing levels of performance, the infertility. It was too much. It was all too much for her to deal with. The information was too much for Isotta to process. She didn’t want to deal with it. Isotta wanted to sleep.
She wanted to disconnect.
And so she slept willfully.
Massimo didn’t know what to do with himself, although he felt some relief in not having to face her. But it also gave him the opportunity to ruminate on the possibilities, the what-ifs. At times, he thought his thoughts were selfish, and he wanted to be selfless, to be concerned about his wife’s condition and what it meant to her. All he could think about, though, was what her condition meant for him. Massimo recalled times when she seemed to be experiencing pain when they were together. He found himself turned on by her cries, by her wincing, by her shrieks. Massimo thought it was because of him, because of the power he wielded in the moments when their bodies connected. Pain for her was pleasure for him. The more pain she experienced heightened his sexual prowess and caused Massimo to want to inflict even more pain. It was about power. It was about control.
He relished in those moments when she begged him to stop, to go easy. He relished those moments when she acquiesced and accepted the pain as a part of their experience. It’s what made their love, their lovemaking. And then he thought about the ultimate, the ultimate threat to his total power – the inability to give him an heir. Massimo would be the understudy of his father forever. He would never lead because he would be relegated to following.
That was unacceptable.
He wouldn’t play second fiddle even to his father, not forever.
There had to be a cure for her condition. There just had to be. Massimo excused himself from the room.
“I’ll stay with her,” Rosa reassured him. And she would. She would stay right by Isotta’s side even if she were asleep.
