Page 82 of Free to Breathe
There isn’t an hour that’s going to pass where my loved ones are waiting for news where they won’t feel me with them in the waiting room.
Just as I’m about to head to the cash register to ring up my damage, I see it. Brown leather, wrapped with a matching tie closure. I pick it up slowly, feeling the soft pebbled leather against the pads of my fingers. Flipping it open, the cream-colored pages are begging for the things I’ve yet to tell Colby. I clutch it to me as I make my way to the register.
“Will this be debit or credit?” the bored after-school clerk asks me.
“Credit.” Pulling out my wallet, I pay the cashier, signing my name with a flourish. I take my bag and make my way to the door. Pausing before I walk out, I just have that sense of rightness about myself I haven’t felt in way too long.
I feel unconquerable.
40
Colby
Two weeks before surgery
Bryan ordered a final MRI for Corinna because he wants to get the best possible imaging before the procedure. Due to her extreme fear of dark spaces, Bryan’s willing to have her completely knocked out for the procedure, so long as someone can drive her home. Since the entire family knows, Corinna had numerous volunteers. She smiled, thanked them all, and turned to me to make sure I could take the day off work.
Her trust in me is unequivocal. What have I done to deserve this humbling faith? The inner voice inside me says,She loves you. You finally let her. That’s all you ever need to do.
Staggered by the realization, I helplessly watch as the technicians lift a lifeless Corinna from a gurney onto the narrow MRI platform. I helped her braid her long locks early this morning before we left for the hospital. The kiss I received after I tied it off with a rubber band that is “not Em approved” would have to carry me over the next several hours.
This is a glimpse of the hell I’ll be living through in a few short weeks.
A hand landing on my shoulder jostles me from my intense focus through the windows of the MRI room. “It’s going to be hours, Colby. I got special permission for you to wait here, but are you sure you want to?” Bryan asks quietly.
“I promised her I wouldn’t be farther away than this. I’m not breaking my promise.” I’m firm on that.
I’ve already broken one she doesn’t need to know about yet by keeping a secret from her.
I wince as the plastic face mask is lowered over her face. “Can you tell me why they’re doing that?” I ask the neurosurgeon.
“I need her head in a certain position to get the best images. See the foam the techs are putting in by her cheeks and forehead?” He points through the window. “It’s not to scare a patient, though most are the first time they use the mask.” He shakes his head regretfully. “We can’t have them move a centimeter inside the tube. The pictures blur and give out poor readings.”
“So, it’s possible the tumor hasn’t grown?” I ask hopefully.
“No, that’s confirmed. Before Corinna panicked during her last scan, we were able to capture the size change. I need this MRI to…” He stops himself before he finishes his sentence.
“To what?”
“I know I hurt her when I wouldn’t talk with her that day. She knew my ego was out of joint. I regret that.” Bryan laughs humorlessly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Time and again, I explain these procedures to patients and families alike. It’s commonplace. I’m direct, concise, and I let the counselors handle the families so I don’t have to.”
I wait for him to continue. When he does, his words are direct and brutal, the reality slamming into my heart so painfully, I feel like I’m about to have a heart attack. “Today’s scan is called a brain mapping, Colby. This way, I know where best to put the incision, where to cut when I get past the bone, and how to get the tumor out while touching as little of her healthy tissue as I can. Without it, I’m flying blind.” Bryan’s eyes are full of sympathy. “She’s knocked out with enough drugs to keep her down for about three hours, meaning I’m going to get the clearest images I’ll have seen in the five years she’s been my patient. The images her former doctor had before were complete shit.”
“Who did she see before?” Bryan rattles off a name that means nothing to me, but from the look of admiration on his face, it obviously means something to him. I feel better that Cori hasn’t forsaken her medical care while trying to keep her condition under wraps. Seeing headsets hanging on the wall inside the MRI chamber, I frown. “Does she have music or anything in there?”
He shakes his head. “Sometimes, yes. Today, I can’t have the images obstructed.”
I run my hands through my dark hair. “How much assurance can you give me she won’t wake up?” I’m petrified I’ll hear her screaming again.
“She’ll be in recovery before she even stirs. But hold her close tonight. I don’t know what she’ll remember.” Like I’d do anything different.
Between one heartbeat and the next, Bryan morphs into Dr. Moser and starts barking orders. Moments later, Corinna is slid back into the tunnel. The technicians scurry out with her gurney. The door to the MRI room is sealed.
And the wait begins.
* * *
Three hours later,I have a new enemy. A target for all my hatred. I just can’t get my hands around it to destroy it. It lives inside the head of the woman I love.
