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“Yeah, well, at this point, we can run our own hospital,” I say, only half-joking.
Dr. Hendriks takes in Prescott, her gaze stopping on his leg brace. “I can see that.”
“I’m fine,” Prescott waves me off. “I’ll be back in the game in no time.”
He seems to be doing better today. Not as tense as he was last night, but there are still deep circles under his eyes.
“Well, as long as you didn’t get it on my watch…” Dr. Hendriks scans the papers in her hands. “Your results look normal, and we’re all set to go. How are you feeling, Jade?”
“Good.” I bounce on the balls of my feet. “Anxious to get this over with.”
“Okay, let’s do this.”
Dr. Hendriks leads the way into a room. The space is wide open with dozens of leather armchairs lined up along the wall, each accompanied by a pole with some kind of machine attached.
A few people are already seated inside. Some look up at us, and some continue to carry on with their own business. Men and women, all different ages, different skin colors, and diverse backgrounds. All of us are fighting some variation of the same nasty disease.
A warm hand touches my waist, startling me. “You good?” Prescott whispers, his warm breath brushing the shell of my ear and making me shiver.
“Y-yeah.” I force one foot in front of the other as I follow Dr. Hendriks to one of the available chairs.
“Sit down and get comfortable. As we discussed, you’re getting chemo in an IV, and the procedure itself will take a few hours. Every person reacts differently, but there are some side effects. Dizziness, vomiting, a spike in temperature, fatigue.”
Appetite loss, weight loss, retching, weakened immune system, hair loss… The list goes on and on and on. Makes you wonder if all of it is worth it in the end.
Brown eyes meet mine, and Prescott gives me an encouraging smile.
It’s worth it.
It has to be.
“Yay me,” I say dryly, pulling the sleeve of my hoodie up to reveal my arm.
“I want to do three cycles, each one four weeks long. We’ll do three rounds, with a one-week break. After three cycles, we’ll run some tests to see how you’re doing.”
Three cycles. Three months.My throat bobs as I swallow.
“Followed by another three cycles?” Nixon asks, saving me from having to do it myself.
“If the results aren’t what we’re hoping for,” Dr. Hendriks nods, her attention turning to me. “But I don’t want you thinking about that. I need you to focus on the right here, right now. Okay? Today is what matters. We’re taking one day at a time.” Just then, an older nurse joins us, pulling a cart with neatly organized bags. “This is Judy. She’ll be your nurse today. I have to go right now, but if you have any questions or don’t feel well, you can always call the hospital.”
“Thank you, Dr. Hendriks.”
Nurse Judy picks up one of the bags and hangs it on the pole by my chair. “How are we doing, Jade?”
“I’ll be doing better once this is over.”
“We’ll see if you think that once you’re done,” she says, pulling out the needle. I try to keep a serious face, but she must see me flinch. “You afraid of needles?”
“I’m not a fan,” I admit.
I’ve been poked and prodded so much in the last few weeks; you’d think it wouldn’t matter at this point. What’s one more needle, right? Tell that to my body that freezes every time I see one.
The corner of her mouth lifts. “How about you concentrate on one of those gorgeous men you brought with you today to take your mind off of this?”
“Don’t say it too loud, it’ll go to their heads.” I turn to my left, where Prescott is already seated in the chair next to mine.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, placing his hand over mine, his thumb rubbing circles over my wrist.
