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Two Weeks Later…
Waiting for Dr. Forester was excruciating. Whitney checked the clock on the wall again as she paced the hospital room.
“Your pacing is driving me crazy,” Lia said through the laptop Zoom connection. She’d gone back to New York a few days before, unable to take any more leave from work, but she’d insisted they connect her in for this appointment.
“I know. I’m sorry,” Whitney said. “I just can’t sit still. What’s taking him so long?” Her body had accepted the bone marrow transplant, and the day before, Dr. Forester had sent her for more tests to see if the new hemoglobin was producing healthy blood cells. Keeping her emotions intact was a challenge, and she refused to get her hopes too high yet, but she was feeling better.
Better than she had in more than a year. Her eyesight wasn’t perfect, and the damage done was irreversible, meaning she’d be wearing glasses from now on to correct her vision, but her body aches had disappeared, the headaches were a rare occurrence, and the swelling in her joints had gone down. She’d gained weight, and the dark circles under her eyes had disappeared. She looked and felt like a new person. She’d been sick and struggling for so long, she’d forgotten what healthy felt like.
Granted, she was under less stress not being at work and having everyone dote on her hand and foot the last two weeks. That had to be having an impact as well. She’d almost gotten used to being taken care of.
Almost.
“I’m sure he will be here soon. But seriously, Lia’s right—the pacing is annoying,” Sarah said, flipping through a magazine so fast, there was no way she was seeing anything on the pages.
Whitney reluctantly sat. The pacing was making her dizzy.
“Here he comes,” Jess said from her perch in the doorway where she’d been waiting. She hurried into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. “Everyone, look casual.”
Whitney laughed. God, it was good to have them there with her. If the news was good, they’d celebrate it together. And if it was bad…they’d get through that, too.
“Hello, hello,” Dr. Forester said, closing the door behind him.
Good mood…good sign? Closed door…bad news?
“Hi, Dr. Forester,” Whitney said. “I brought in moral support.”
“Perfect. I’m glad everyone’s here. Good to see you, Lia. How are you feeling?” he asked, peering through the computer screen.
“Feeling great.” Lia waved a hand as though to say,Get on with it. “Give it to us straight—did the transplant work?”
Whitney could hear the nervousness in the other woman’s voice. They all wanted positive news that day, but she sensed Lia needed it almost as much as she did. The last few weeks as she’d gotten stronger and healthier, her mindset had also continued to change, and her hopes had risen for a chance to live her life better.
She hadn’t heard from or seen Trent. He was respecting her wishes. But she did miss him more and more each day. He’d never been far from her thoughts, and she regretted pushing him away, but she hadn’t known what else to do. Her heart and mind had been conflicted and she’d needed to finally prioritize her health above all else, focus on getting better.
Dr. Forester nodded. “Yes, it did.”
Relief caused Whitney’s shoulders to sag as she fell back against the pillows on the bed.
“Thank God,” Jess said.
Sarah reached into her oversize purse and produced a bottle of champagne. “Too soon?” she asked as the doctor shot her a look. “We’ll wait until you leave,” she said, tucking it away again.
Whitney laughed. Her friends were the perfect brand of ridiculousness when she needed it most. She took a deep breath. It wasn’t over yet. Nothing was ever that simple. “Okay, so what does it mean? Will I still need medication? A future transplant?” Her body was producing healthy blood cells now, but for how long? She was afraid to get too optimistic.
“You’ll need your anti-rejection drugs a little longer, and I want you in my office every three months for routine bloodwork.” He pointed to Jess, Sarah, and Lia. “You three will remind her?”
“Yes, sir,” Jess said.
Sarah saluted her agreement.
“Scheduling it into my Outlook right now,” Lia said.
In the past, having babysitters would have irritated Whitney, but she was so fortunate to have this new chance at life that she didn’t mind.
“But as long as you reduce your stress level and don’t ignore any symptoms, there’s no reason to think you’ll require another transplant.”
“So I’m cured?” Was that possible? She’d read about children being able to have the disease cured from a transplant, but the research on adults was still inconclusive. They were still researching alternative methods. Though she knew how rare bone marrow transplants in adults were, so maybe she’d really just been extremely fortunate.
