Chapter 17
Nick didn’t see
Dr. Kingsbury again until the next morning.
When she finally came into his room, a large manila envelope in hand, it
was not with good news.
“The results of
your CT scan came back from the lab this morning, Nick,” the doctor said,
pulling a black, filmy sheet out of the envelope.
“And?”
“They show what
the x-ray showed, a fracture and a hole in your bone. But they’re not conclusive enough, so I want
to do a biopsy on your leg later today.”
“A biopsy? Isn’t that… surgery?” Nick asked, heart
pounding.
“Very, very minor
surgery,” Dr. Kingsbury replied, stressing the word “minor.” “You’ll be put under anesthesia, but the
procedure is very simple. We’ll just
take a tiny sample of tissue from the bone in your leg for examination. Your leg will be a little sore for a couple
days, but that’s all.”
“My leg’s sore
anyway,” Nick muttered.
“Well,” said Dr.
Kingsbury with a patient smile, “it won’t inconvenience you too much then.”
“So why do you
have to do this biopsy anyway?”
“Like I said, the
results of the CT scan were inconclusive.”
“And what exactly
is that supposed to mean?”
“It means we need
to do more tests, and a biopsy is an excellent diagnostic procedure.”
“Meaning you’ll
know what’s going on with me after the biopsy?
For sure?”
“Most likely.”
Nick sighed. “Well, what do you think you’re going to
find? What do you think caused the hole
in my bone?”
Dr. Kingsbury
averted her gaze and answered slowly, “It could be any number of things; I’m
not really sure at this point. That’s
why I want the biopsy done.”
Narrowing his
eyes at her, Nick had a feeling she wasn’t being one hundred percent honest
with him. But, again, he did not press
the issue. He would find out the truth
soon enough.
***
Late that
afternoon, Nick taken to the surgical floor for his biopsy. Having already been given a shot of something
to relax him before surgery, Nick was surprisingly unafraid as he was wheeled
on a gurney into the pre-op room, where he was visited by an anesthesiologist,
who asked him a series of questions and then injected something into the IV
line running into the back of Nick’s hand.
It was not long before he began to feel very sleepy, and before he knew
it, he was out.
When Nick woke
up, he was in a totally different room.
As he slowly became oriented, the first sensation he felt was pain. His lower left leg was throbbing, and his
throat was sore too.
“How are you
feeling, Nick?” an unfamiliar nurse asked, coming up to his bed.
“I guess okay,”
Nick tried to say, but his voice came out hoarse and scratchy.
Seeing the
bewildered expression cross his face, the nurse smiled and said, “The doctors
put a tube down your throat during the surgery, which is why your throat is
probably sore. Don’t worry though, it’ll
be better by tomorrow.”
Nick nodded, not
feeling like using his voice anymore right then. The nurse disappeared and returned carrying a
glass of water with a straw in it, which she held to Nick’s lips and urged him
to sip from. Then she took his
temperature and blood pressure and went away to check on other patients. This process was repeated about every fifteen
minutes for the next hour or so, and then Nick was rolled back to the privacy
of his room.
As he was
transferred to his hospital bed, Nick noticed a big, blue brace wrapped around
his bad leg; still a little disoriented from the anesthesia, he had not
realized it was there before. The thing
was rather uncomfortable and bulky, but it made him feel less vulnerable, less
cautious about his fractured leg. So he
decided not to complain about it and instead turned on the TV and started
flipping through the channels, trying to find something to distract him. He settled on Comedy Central, but as he
looked up at the TV, he could feel his eyelids growing heavy as drowsiness
overpowered him. Before long, he had
drifted back to sleep.
***
When Nick awoke,
he was surprised to find out that it was morning; he had slept over twelve
hours straight. Feeling a little bit
like Rip Van Winkle, he sat up in bed, tired of lying down. Wanting to get up and stretch his muscles a
bit, he decided to go for a walk down the hall.
Easing himself carefully out of his bed, he slid a slipper onto his
right foot, ignoring the left one, and retrieved his crutches. Then he hobbled across the room. His movements were slower than usual; he was
startled to find that just a few days of lying in bed had weakened him. Hoisting himself around on crutches seemed
more strenuous than it had the day he had checked in to the hospital.
Because of this,
his walk was a short one. He managed to
make it down to the end of his hallway, where he promptly turned around and
limped back, knowing he wouldn’t be able to go much further. He reached his room and climbed slowly back
into his bed, his arms aching.
Just when he had
got himself settled, an orderly came with his breakfast tray. The food looked rather unappetizing, as
usual. Not that Nick was very hungry
anyway. He hadn’t had much of an
appetite throughout his hospital stay, and he wouldn’t be surprised if he had
taken off a few more pounds in just those three days.
Pushing a mound
of rubbery scrambled eggs around with his fork, Nick debated over whether he
could manage a few bites or not. He
decided he couldn’t and pushed his tray away, making a mental note to hit a
McDonald’s as soon as he was released from the hospital.
After the orderly
returned to collect his breakfast tray, Dr. Kingsbury arrived, carrying her
familiar clipboard.
“Good morning,
Nick,” she greeted him, but her lack of a smile and tone of voice told him it
was not a good morning, not for her anyway.
“Hey, Dr.
Kingsbury,” he said and flashed her one of his half-smiles, remembering that
saying about how a smile can brighten someone’s day. Thinking Dr. Kingsbury was just stressed out
about some other aspect of her job, he had no idea that he would soon need the
smile himself.
“I have the
results of your biopsy, Nick,” the doctor said, standing at his bedside and
glancing down at her clipboard of papers.
“So, what did you
find?” At that point, Nick was really more
curious than concerned, not considering how serious the possibilities could be.
But then Dr.
Kingsbury pursed her lips and looked at him in a way that made his heart
flip-flop in his chest, and he knew, right then, that things were very wrong.
“The biopsy
confirmed what the x-ray and CT scan hinted at.
Nick, I’m very sorry to have to tell you this, but…”
Nick’s heart beat
loudly in his ears, and his whole body grew very cold, as if he had just
plunged into a vat of icy water. Yet,
despite all this, he couldn’t help but hear the rest of the doctor’s sentence,
loud and clear.
“… you have
cancer.”
***