“Fine.” I spit out the word. “I’m ordering tests. And once I see where you stand, then we’ll see about treatment.” I paused. “I assume you have no money, so I’ll be footing this bill for you?”
“Got a little nest-egg in my bag there, but ain’t much. You’re welcome to it.” A smile ghosted over his face. “Your legacy, son. You can spend it on making me well, or you can take for your own self. Don’t care, myself.”
“I don’t want your money.” I headed for the door, halting when I heard him speak again.
“Yeah, you’re just like them, too high and mighty to worry about what other people might want or need. Only see things from your lofty perch, doncha? You’re all fancy with your education and your hospital. They’re out there on that damn farm that they love more than their own flesh and blood. They raised you to be just like them, didn’t they? And here you are, another man who’s lookin’ down his nose at people who make different choices. Tell you what,son.” He put bitter emphasis on that word. “You ain’t better than me. Not by a long shot. And if your mama saw you treatin’ me this way, why, she’d be ashamed of you. Heart of gold she had. Never would’ve turned no one away or treated them different.”
I pointed my finger at the figure in the bed. “You shut up about my grandparents, and you shut up about my mother. You’re not worth a quarter of any of them. And keep in mind that the only reason I’m not turning your sorry ass out into the street is because they all raised me with compassion—which is more than you deserve.”
Before he could say another word, I wheeled out of the room, my hands shaking and insides quivering like jam. I’d never let him see it, but damn if that man didn’t push every button I had.
Darcy and Mira were sitting at the nurses’ station. By Darcy’s expression, I assumed she knew just who Ted Girard was.
“Run the tests.” I spoke tersely through my teeth. “Do the panels, the scans, and we might as well plan for a pleural biopsy, too. He’s likely going to need a thoracentesis, as well, but let’s wait for the scans before we go down that road. Thanks.”
I turned and stalked down the hall toward my office, a headache pounding in the back of my neck. I was going to do my damnedest to keep Ted Girard alive. After that, if I never saw him again, it would be too soon.
8
Emma
“Night, night, baby boy! Blow Daddy a kiss! Daddy’s blowing you a kiss. Kiss Mama for me. I love you, sweet boy. Daddy loves you so much.”
I stood in the hallway outside of George Brewer’s room and listened to him talk to his baby son on video chat. I’d been working in oncology almost since my medical work had begun. Not only that, I’d also grown up hearing stories of both tragedy and triumph from my father’s long career. By now, I should’ve been inured to the sadness that cancer could bring. But apparently not, because here I stood, tears in my eyes, listening to my patient love on his baby over video.
George’s news was good. He was continuing to respond to treatment, and the supplements that we’d added to his plan were doing everything we’d hoped. He was as healthy as a man his age with his stage of pancreatic cancer could expect to be—maybe more so. Even so, I knew the numbers. I’d read the statistics. The probability that George would be around to cheer in the audience when his son collected his diploma at high school graduation was virtually nil. We could do everything within our power to extend his life and ease his pain, but we couldn’t eradicate this cancer. Not now.
The only hope was keeping him alive and healthy long enough that a cure or a more effective treatment might be found. That was our mission. And as a naturopath, I tried to make sure he lived with as little pain as possible and that his life was as normal as it could be. Still, deep down, I knew that was impossible. At the end of the day, he was a man with cancer, which was why tonight, instead of standing next to his lovely wife as they tucked in their son, he was sitting in a hospital bed, recovering from a chemo treatment and sending kisses over the internet.
Life just wasn’t fair. And sometimes, it sucked.
I waited until the room was quiet for a few minutes before I went in, wearing a bright smile. I didn’t want George to see my sadness or my worry.
“Hello, George! How are you feeling tonight? Is it all right if I come in for a few minutes?”
He smiled, but I saw the weariness there. “I’m doing okay, doc. And sure, of course. Come on in. Have a seat.”
I slid one of the visitor chairs to the side of the bed. “Thanks. It’s been a long day. I’m glad to sit down.”
“I bet. Why’re you here so late?”
I shrugged. “In this job, the hours aren’t necessarily prescribed. I came in a little later today, so I stayed a little later tonight. And I’m glad I did because your latest test numbers came in just as I was getting ready to leave.” I waved my tablet. “They’re good news, George. You’re continuing to move in the right direction.”
“Aww, that’s great to hear.” He grinned. “I’d be happier if you told me those results meant I didn’t have to come back here ever again, but I guess beggars can’t be choosers, right?”
“I’d love to be able to tell you one day that you don’t have to come to see us, George, but no, today is not that day.” I rolled my shoulders. “As Dr. Girard likes to remind me, pancreatic cancer is a son of a bitch, and we can’t let it get the jump on us. So we’ll have to see you again next month.”
“I’ll be here. As long as you guys can keep me moving in the right direction, I’ll keep coming back.”
“That’s a good thing because I like seeing your smiling face once a month.” I set my feet flat on the floor and prepared to stand up. “Well, I’ll let you get some rest. Dr. Girard or I will be by tomorrow morning to sign your discharge papers.”
“Sounds good. Hey, doc. I heard a rumor that Deacon’s dad is on the floor now. Is that true?”
I sighed and slumped back in my chair. “It is. Sometimes I forget how fast hospital gossip travels.”
George chuckled. “I heard it through the nurse grapevine. I also heard the man’s not very nice.”
“That’s . . .” I began and then closed my mouth. I didn’t want to talk about Deacon’s family situation behind his back. “Mr. Girard can be challenging. But let’s hope it all works out.”
