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“I don’t necessarily agree with that,” Beck said. “But it’s her choice.”
Dr. Cornelius nodded. “When we’re dealing with terminal illness, I normally accept the wishes of the patient without question. However, in my opinion, the tumor pushing on the carotid artery is likely to cause another stroke if left untreated—sooner rather than later.”
“How soon?” Louise asked.
The doctor shook his head. “I can’t tell you that. But I wouldn’t be surprised if it was only a matter of days. Weeks at best. The blood thinners are only a very short-term Band-Aid.”
“Is there anything noninvasive that can be done?” I asked.
Dr. Cornelius looked to Louise. “I spoke to your oncologist in New York, Dr. Ludlow. He believes a short regimen of radiation would be best. Taking into consideration your wishes not to undergo further treatment that would interfere with your quality of life, he recommends just two weeks of radiation, approximately ten sessions. The majority of tumors shrink during the first few weeks, while causing the least amount of side effects. We can’t say definitively that it will work, or how long it might buy you until the tumor grows large enough to cause a problem again, but Dr. Ludlow believes it should shrink enough in ten sessions that it would be at least three to six months before it becomes an issue.”
Louise sighed. “The radiation made me so tired last time, I couldn’t get out of bed.”
“Yes,” Beck added. “But you were doing chemo at the same time. This would only be radiation, correct?”
“That’s right.” Dr. Cornelius nodded. “Your oncologist wouldn’t be trying to cure the disease; he’d only be trying to make living through it more manageable, so you could have more time to live your life while you’re feeling good.”
“I don’t know…” Louise said. She looked to me. “What do you think?”
I felt Beck’s eyes on me, but tried to ignore the influence. “I think it’s a decision you should consider carefully.”
Louise shrugged. “I need to think about it.”
“Of course.” The doctor nodded. “But like I said, the blood thinners are only a temporary fix. So it’s best not to take too long.”
The doctors stayed another ten minutes, examining Louise’s eyes and strength. She was able to grip the doctor’s fingers with both hands, but one side was noticeably weaker than the other. When they were done, Dr. Cornelius asked if we had any questions.
“How long does she need to stay in the hospital here, barring any further episodes?” Beck asked. “You said it could be only a matter of days before another stroke, so I’d like to get her back to New York to start treatment.”
Louise pursed her lips. “IfI start treatment.”
Beck ignored her. “How fast could we get her on a plane?”
“I’d like to monitor her today and try to get Ms. Aster up and around this afternoon. How about if we discuss that during evening rounds?”
“Okay. Great.”
Louise pulled the covers off and started to swing her legs over the side of the bed.
“Whoa—hang on there,” Dr. Cornelius said. “You need a nurse and someone from PT to get up. Probably a walker to start, too.”
I winced at the wordwalker, knowing what was about to come. And it did.
“I don’t need any damn walker. I can’t help but get older, but I’m far from old, son. Just dying. I’ll be fine on my own.”
The doctor tried to hide his smile. “How about we compromise and have the nurse and PT help you without a walker?”
“Fine.”
Beck shook his head as the medical team left Louise’s room. “He’s just looking out for you. It won’t kill you to humor him and use the walker for a few minutes to make sure you’re okay on your feet. You don’t always have to be in charge.”
“Oh really? When was the last timeyoulet someone be in charge?”
I grinned. The more time I spent with these two, the more I realized how much they were alike.
Beck scowled at me. “What are you smiling at?”
My mouth split wider. “Who me? I’m not smiling.”
