Page 71 of Doctor One Night

It’s amazing when you get to see with your own eyes a patient actually taking the hard steps to better herself. It’s unbelievable how much better she is doing now that she has hung up that disgusting habit.

My phone in my breast pocket vibrates. I pull it out to see it’s my mother. Shit.

“Hello, Mom,” I say wearily, closing my eyes after pushing the button to accept the call. I’m literally about to head out to work out, but I know if I don’t take this call I’ll put off calling her back. What’s another five minutes?

“Hunter…”

I sit up a bit, frowning. I did expect a tirade right off the bat, but the tone of her voice in that one word says a lot. Of course, it could be a trick.

“Mom. What’s wrong? I mean, has something happened?”

“I know you’ve spoken with Dr. Momford, my oncologist. He told me he consulted with you and a doctor colleague of yours there. Thank you for putting that together.”

“Yes, I have.” I’m not sure if her quiet tone is because she is unhappy with something I did or because I didn’t do it sooner. Either way, I’m sure I did something wrong in her eyes.

“He told me that my cancer will not respond to treatment.”

There it is. Before I was involved, she had hope. Now, she is aware her cancer is especially dangerous and very likely aggressive. Fuck. I knew I should have stayed out of it.

“I’m sorry, Mom. That was my worry when you told me bits and pieces of your diagnosis. That is why I called Dr. Dibbins and he offered to call your doctor. The good news is there are a few trials happening that you can participate in. This isn’t a death sentence, Mom.”

“Son, was I hard on you?”

“What?” That’s kind of an odd question and one I didn’t expect to hear from her, especially in the context of this topic.

“Did I push you too hard? Your father,” I can hear her pursing her lips in the pause,“he and I only wanted the best for you. We saw your potential.”

Good lord, I want to shout at her that she was on my ass all the time to do better, to accomplish everything, to be the fucking best at everything. But I don’t unload that baggage right now, I don’t need to.

“You wanted the best for me, Mom, I get it.”

“Then why did you rebel so much? Why did you always seem so angry?”

This conversation is getting weirder by the minute. My parents and I don’t talk like this, open up, share feelings.

Staring death in the face does the strangest things to people. I do not really want to have this discussion with my mother. That ship has sailed. There is no need to rehash the last thirty-two years.

But I do need to make sure that she’s okay, and it seems like this is something she wants to get off her chest. Despite the bitterness I’ve held onto, she’s still the woman who gave birth to me, and I am trying to find something that can save her life.

Inhaling through my nose, I reply, “You and Dad did push me, Mom, and I started to resent it early on. Nothing I ever did felt like it was good enough. Even when I got straight A’s in school, you didn’t let up. I wanted to please you, but…”

“But, what? Tell me, son.”

“I felt like no matter what I did, how good I was, how perfect it was, nothing pleased you.”

“You’ve always pleased me, Son. I’m sorry we made you believe otherwise. I’ve never been so proud of anyone or anything my whole life.”

Who is this person? Did she start early on her gin and tonics? My mother has never said anything remotely close to this. The word “proud” was not in their lexicon. I’m starting to get worried. “Mom, are you okay? Do you need help?”

“No, I’m perfectly fine,” she says, sounding almost happy. “I just wanted to know, that’s all.”

Her words are slurred and now her breathing sounds labored.

“Mom, I’m going to call an ambulance and Dr. Momford. Are you home? I need to know you’re safe and secure, okay?”

My body is going into complete panic mode. I buzz Jill while I’m still on my cell phone with Mom and ask her to call 911 and direct them to my mother’s house in California. She has the address. I’m keeping my mom on the phone until they arrive.

“Don’t,” she breathes into the phone. “I just need a rest, that’s all. I’ll let you go, I just wanted you to know.”

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