Page 43 of Eye of Her Storm

Her eyes closed, and she focused on her respiration and being positive. Her head hurt worse than usual after her flights, and she hadn’t taken any medication this morning in preparation for the possible surgery tomorrow. Thankfully, none of it had been on the week-long abstain list Dr. Collins’ office had sent with her paperwork.

She looked up sharply at the quick knock on the door. A moment later, the doctor walked in. Her pulse raced as nerves ravaged her insides. God, her hands were so cold. She rubbed them against her thighs as she watched the doctor’s progress to his desk. He set down the file he carried and gave her a wide smile. An almost gleeful smile. A so, so reassuring full-dimpled smile.

“River, it’s good to meet you. So, I’ve got some good news for you.”

Her breath released in a gust, and she deflated, her nerves letting go for the first time in months. Tears burned in her eyes.

“Yes?” she asked, anxious for more, yet hardly daring to believe it.

“Your tumor is actually in a better location than many I’ve operated on. I think I can fully remove it without too many ill effects. It’s contained, and I should be able to excise it without disturbing the surrounding brain tissue Of course, anything dealing with the brain is tricky. I won’t lie to you—you have to consider this. You may experience substantial side-effects.”

“Like?” She’d never discussed this with anyone before now, since the only side-effect she’d looked at before was death.

“All, some or none of these symptoms: a loss of motor skills, speech or vision problems, memory loss, cognitive issues.” He paused and tapped his pen on the file. “Death, but,” he quickly added, “I think you’ll make it through just fine. You’re healthy, and like I said, it’s in a good location. But you need to be aware beforehand.”

She nodded. “That was in one of the releases I signed.”

Death had been her only prospect before. Did he think it would cause her to freak out now? He was giving her hope.

“Right… So,” he took a deep breath and blew it out, “my staff will set up post-op evaluations with the therapists I work with—physical, occupational and speech. In all reality, you’ll probably have to work with each of them for a few sessions at minimum to relearn what you know now—that’s not to say everything will be wiped out. You’ll just need some recovery time.”

She nodded. “Okay. How long?”

“Depends. A few weeks. A few months. If it’s longer, we can see about treatment near your home. Any other questions?”

“No, not yet.” A few months? That was a lot longer than she’d thought. Suddenly, she needed to call her guys as soon as possible and let them know…what? At least, where she was and what was going on. That she loved them, and she hoped she’d be back soon. That she hoped they’d forgive her.

They’d get that from the letter she’d left.

No, she just needed to hear their voices, to feel their love. Oh, why had she done things this way? They were going to be so angry. And hurt. And all she’d wanted to do was not hurt them and cause them more worry.

“There is one thing… I didn’t want my family to know what was going on—even my dad just in case—”

“Right.” He nodded. “You’re concerned about privacy because I’m acquainted with your father?”

“Yes.”

“One of the forms you signed was our HIPPA policy. I’m prohibited from sharing your information without your permission. That’s one of the reasons I needed you to sign the releases for research.”

“Okay.”

“All right, then. Anything else?

“No.”

“So, tomorrow, I’ll use the data we have along with what amounts to a computer guided navigation system—kind of like a GPS to your brain. We’ll do a scan just before and place fiducials—markers—on your head to assist with this. By using the markers as a guide we can get the whole tumor while being less invasive, and being less invasive means better recovery and fewer aftereffects for you. Questions?”

She shook her head, feeling as if she should have a million but not coming up with even one.

“Like we discussed, you signed the release of information and the permission to use your case as part of my research. My study will be published in medical journals, as will details of your diagnosis, surgery, treatment and prognosis, as well as what’s been done for you to this point. In return, my grants will cover your entire course of treatment and recovery.”

Her eyes widened as his words pulled her from her recriminations. She hadn’t realized the extent of what that form covered. Yes, she’d signed the release of info, but she hadn’t known the implications. Everything would be paid? By his research grants?

“Wow…” she breathed. “That’s fine. To publish it, I mean. What now?”

“I have your files, including your most recent scans, but we need to do some test today. My staff will admit you and prep you for the early surgery tomorrow morning. We’ll get some images using my equipment then some blood work, a basic physical, an EKG… Your normal pre-op. I don’t anticipate any problems. So,” he stood, came around his desk and reached out his hand, “I’m putting you in the capable hands of my PA, Anna, for the rest of the day and I will see you tomorrow morning. If you have any questions come up or want to know more about the procedure…” He winked. “I know all-to-well how you nurses are. You can ask Anna about anything. She’ll be able to answer or contact me.”

River’s head was spinning as she shook his hand and thanked him.

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