Page 25 of Rematch
Audrey
“You’re gonna make a hole in the floor if you keep pacing like that,” Dad teased. He was sitting on the top of the exam table, watching me walk back and forth in front of him.
We were in the hospital, waiting to talk to Dad’s oncologist about his new scans. Neither Dad nor Papa seemed worried after his appointment for the initial scan, but that’s usually not the anxiety-inducing one. It’s the one where you discuss the results that eat at you.
“Come here,” Papa beckoned. He patted the seat next to him. “Sit down. Relax.”
Reluctantly, I followed his command. Within seconds, my knee started bobbing up and down, unable to keep still.
My fathers exchanged a look and shook their heads.
A soft knock rang on the door. Following it, a tall man with rich chestnut brown skin and streaks of gray in his dark beard. “Good morning,” he greeted us with a kind smile. “My name is Dr. Wayans; I’m one of the doctors from the Genevieve Legacy Project. I’ll be working with you all from here on out.”
Dad grinned. “Good morning, Dr. Wayans. How are you?”
“I’m doing well. How are you feeling, Benjamin?”
“I’ve actually been feeling pretty good.”
Dr. Wayans saw through Dad’s wide smile and looked at Papa and me, silently asking the question with his eyes.
“He’s been complaining more about aches in his abdomen,” Papa explained. “He’s been eating less too. We’ve noticed he can’t keep down certain foods without puking it back up. But, the nausea could be a side effect of the chemo, right?”
Dr. Wayans nodded. “Yes, unfortunately. Focus on filling your diet with the foods you are able to keep down and ones with high levels of Vitamin D and Vitamin C. That might help manage the nausea. Has the chemotherapy been alright, otherwise?”
Dad nodded. “So far, so good. The real question is, is it working?”
Dr. Wayans pulled out the large folder from underneath his arm and started taking out the film sheets within it. He hung them up on the illuminator and turned it on. A scan of my father’s internal organs, some covered with bright white areas appeared.
All of our faces fell as we noticed the color took up more space than it did the last scan.
“As you can see,” Dr. Wayans began, reading our faces, “The cancer has spread.” He traced his fingers over the white areas. “Last scan, it was still confined to the pancreas. Now, it’s not only spread across the organ, but it’s also moved over to the liver as well.”
“So, the chemo’s not working?” Dad asked.
“As of now, the tumors are not responding to it. We need to be more aggressive with the treatment. I recommend adjusting your treatment plan for higher doses and potentially more rounds and add some sessions for radiation therapy as well.”
“But, will Benny’s body be able to handle that?” Papa asked. “He’s already having some issues with the side effects from the current treatment.”
Dr. Wayans opened his mouth to speak, but Dad cut him off.
“I’ll be fine,” he assured him. “Besides, it’s not like we have any other options right now. Do we, doc?”
The doctor solemnly shook his head. “The tumor has grown too large to be surgically removed without potentially causing damage to your other organs. We could attempt it on the liver, but I’d like to try to shrink them down beforehand. The less tissue we need to cut into, the less chance we have of the organ failing.”
“So, we’ll go with the adjustments,” Dad confirmed.
Nodding, Dr. Wayans dove into his spiel about the new medicines, potential side effects, and treatment schedule.
While Papa’s face fell with every new piece of information, Dad maintained his small smile. The way he managed to hold onto every inch of optimism he could find in the face of adversity was admirable. Still, I worried about the emotions he was hiding beneath the surface.
The ride home was eerily silent. All of us were processing the news, and coping in our own ways. Papa drove with one hand on the steering wheel and the other clasped tight around Dad’s on the center dash. Dad stared out the window, bobbing his head and humming to the songs on the radio. I sat in the backseat, flicking my gaze between the two of them and praying there wouldn’t be a day where one of their seats were empty.
The cards life dealt them wasn’t fair. How could two of the kindest people in the world experience such pain and agony when others who’ve caused harm for no reason were living peacefully? Karma must’ve made a wrong turn somewhere.
I could only hope it got back on the right track soon.
Chapter 12
