Page 47 of Dr. Brandt

“Yep.” My frustration was rising, and I was glad I hadn’t eaten much because I was feeling sick. “What are the odds he may not survive the surgery?”

“Given that Jacks will be in my care and the care of my surgical team, the odds are very good, but there is always a chance of death in any surgery.”

“Why the fuck are you acting like this? I thought you had us over for dinner tonight to help us decide on this surgery.”

“That’s precisely why I invited you over for dinner, Jessica,” he said.

I was talking to Cameron the surgeon, the no-bullshit doctor, and he was an absolute dick.

“Is this how you pep talk all of your patients into having surgery?”

“Only the ones who will be on the fence for about a year or two while trying to make a decision.”

“Huh? That makes no sense.”

“It makes perfect sense. There are no gray areas here. Parents need to make a firm decision about whether they want to go ahead. Those who aren’t sure tend to call it off the day before, and I try my best to avoid that.”

“I’m not like most parents.”

“You’re a textbook fear-driven parent, Jessa,” he smiled. “It’s not a bad thing, but it can be if I don’t take care of this shit up front.” He took another sip of his beer, “You need to be faced with everything your mind will throw out at you to put a stop to this. This is a fucking serious surgery. It’s not to be taken lightly by the family or the patient. Unfortunately, Jacks is at the top end of the age for which we will perform this surgery. Within a year, he will no longer have this option, and there will be no other choice to help him. It fucking sucks, I know, and I wish there were more time to decide, but fuck me, there’s not. I would strongly advise that you not take long to decide.”

“Cam, sports are his life just like they were yours,” I said sadly. “It’s the life I was trying to get back for him, and now that isn’t going to happen either.”

“I completely understand that but shaking your fist at the sky and screaming that it’s unfair won’t change a goddamn thing,” he said softly. “Not every disease has a cure or even a treatment. But, lucky for Jacks, his condition is treatable. Will it leave him with a deficit? It very well might. Is that better than dropping into a seizure multiple times a day? You bet your ass it is.” He shifted in his seat. “It’s up to Jackson to find his drive to beat the odds. I, for one, am not programmed to let something defeat me, and I’m hoping Jacks may have gotten some of those wild genetics from me because if he has, he might beat all the fucking odds.”

He laughed after he saw me smile in confirmation that Jacks was just as stubborn and determined as his father.

“He’s got my blood in him, too,” I said proudly.

“Well, fuck,” Cameron said, taking another sip of beer and staring at the ocean.

“Well, fuck you too,” I laughed at his dramatics. “It’s probably why I know he’ll be fine coming out of the surgery.”

“You realize that his speech and smile will be impaired when he wakes up from this surgery? It could take nearly a month of solid determination just to get those two motor skills back.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, so while you’re proudly proclaiming the boy has your genetics and will pull out of it fine, we won’t know until after he apologizes for being unable to speak for a month.”

“Oh God,” I rolled my eyes. “There is not enough beer for your inability to be serious about anything.”

“You needed a break,” he grinned. “I could see the wheels turning in your head. Your eyes were nearly crossed, trying to stomach all of this shit, and I needed to knock you off balance a little bit.”

“Be honest, Cameron. I need to know what we’re up against.”

“All right, then,” he said, and then I wished I hadn’t asked for his candor. “Given his age and how mature his brain is at this age, honestly, he may never speak again. He may never regain function on the right side of his body. This is all dependent on the right hemisphere of his brain being able to pick up the functions that the left hemisphere normally is responsible for.” My hand instinctively covered the tiny gasp that escaped from my mouth as tears formed in my eyes.

“Jessa, I want to spend more time with him,” he said.

I brushed away the rogue tears and nodded.

“I need to see how strong he is,” he continued. “It’s not like there are any other options with this medical condition, as this hemisphere of his brain is storming and actively dying. But if you want reassurance, I need more time with him.”

“Yeah, okay,” I said.

“In the next couple of days, my friends and I are taking a trip to Monterey Bay to see the aquarium or some shit like that. You and Jacks should come. It will be fun, and aside from my friends, who I’m confident will adore you and Jacks, it will give me more time to assess him and form a better opinion. I don’t want to sugarcoat anything; I’ve got to shoot you straight because I do not want to give you false hope.”

I sighed in defeat. I was numb and didn’t care if we went to an aquarium, a park, or a fucking schoolyard for Cam to get more time with Jacks. Cameron offered to go above and beyond to assess the situation, which could only help things.

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