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I mean, why bother to input more family history into a new doctor if there was one who was very much aware of all our family history?
My eldest brother, following in my father’s footsteps, was the best cancer doc in the area.
“Which one did you refer me to?” I asked, hoping that it wasn’t my brother, but knowing it was.
“Dr. Christopherson…” she paused. “Oh. Is that man related to you?”
I felt my eyelid twitch. “Yes.”
“Oh,” she said. “Well…”
“Thank you for your diligence. I appreciate you getting back to me,” I said.
After we said our goodbyes, I got out of bed and went to the restroom.
As I did, I looked at my balls.
“You fuckin’ failures,” I told them as I took a piss.
I debated whether or not to call my brother as I washed my hands and brushed my teeth but knew that he’d find out rather fast whether I told him or not.
He liked to look at all the referrals in the morning when he came in to keep on top of things.
He also understood that when people had cancer, they were scared and antsy for news. Waiting to hear back from the doctor would be torturous for them. So, he reached out as soon as he could and at least touched base, letting them know that he was aware and looking into it.
In all, that meant I had about thirty minutes or so to call him before he was calling me.
And him finding out that way would piss him off.
Especially since he didn’t like surprises.
I managed to get dressed, start a pot of coffee, and then down a banana before scrounging up the nerve to call him.
He answered in three rings, sounding harried.
“Yo, bro. I’m so sorry to do this, but I’m running late and can’t talk,” he answered without a hello.
I rolled my eyes. One of my biggest annoyances about my family was how they all answered with ‘can’t talk gotta go’ or something to that effect.
“Then why did you answer?” I grumbled, wishing I could hang up on him and not talk to him for three days like I usually did.
It wasn’t a petty revenge thing that I did. More of a reminder that family was important, and you didn’t get to pick and choose when they were important to you.
“Because I didn’t want you to think you’re not important,” he answered, knowing where I was going with my line of thought.
“If you wanted me to think that I was important, you wouldn’t be trying to get me off the phone,” I pointed out. “If you didn’t have time to talk to me, you shouldn’t have answered. I wouldn’t have thought that you had better things to do than talk to me.”
“I’m not…” he paused. “What the fuck? I’m running late because the dogs were up puking all night, and I seriously don’t have time for this.”
I wish that I didn’t have to be the one to say this but…
“Listen, I know you’re busy and you’re running late,” I said, “but it happened.”
There was an abrupt halt on the other end of the line, and I could practically hear him coming to a stop mid-walk.
“You’re…”
“Yep,” I said. “Last week when I went in for that concussion, they did a complete work up per NASCAR regulations. They found some markers.”
He cursed under his breath. “Get into the office. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
I looked at the list of things that I had to do today and groaned.
I had to be at the florist to pick up flowers for my mom because, apparently, the reunion required a certain décor.
At noon I was supposed to be picking up my sister from the airport.
At two, I was supposed to be picking up my brother.
And at five I was supposed to be meeting them for an early dinner.
Needless to say, I had a long ass day ahead of me.
“I can’t today,” I said.
“You will,” Hoyt disagreed. “Or I tell the entire family what’s going on, and you have to go anyway, but with them in the room.”
I grumbled under my breath.
“I’ll schedule you a few tests at Open Imaging before you come. That’s on the…”
“Third floor,” I grumbled. “I know this.”
He said a few choice words under his breath. “This is serious, Nash. It could kill you.”
I knew that.
I also knew that it wasn’t something under my control.
If I died, I died.
There was nothing else I could do about it.
We all died.
Some of us earlier than others, sure. But we didn’t escape death. Death was one hundred percent certain.
“I’m taking this seriously,” I said. “I’ll be there when you text me the time to get the imaging done.”
He grumbled a few more things, then said, “I’m gonna hang up with you then call. I’ll text you the time.”
Then he hung up, leaving me with my phone to my ear and my eyes rolling.
