“Anthony Lowell, I have an appointment at two p.m.”
“Of course, have a seat, and Dr Sarnmer will be with you shortly. Can I get you any refreshments?” the receptionist asks us.
“No, thank you,” my father replies.
A nurse comes in not long after to take my father through to his appointment. I sit and scroll through my phone, checking in with Elliot at the office.
My phone pings with a message from Scarlet.
Scar- Thank you soooooo much! The girls are hilarious. I really am having an incredible day.
A photo is attached to the message, and my eyes widen when I see what they have done to my penthouse. It’s a sea of purple.
“Mason.” I look up from my phone to my father’s ashen face. “You can come in now.”
I swallow the bile that rises in my throat, push my phone back into my pocket, and follow my dad into the room.
“Mason, it’s good to finally meet you,” the doctor says, standing to shake my hand.
“Likewise, do you have the results?” I ask, eager to get on the road and back to the office.
His chin drops, and he looks to my father.
“Dad?”
“It’s as we expected, son.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” I challenge.
What were we expecting?
“Mason, your father’s drinking has led to his liver not working as it should. As he has continued to drink over the years despite that fact, he now has severe swelling of the liver. He has excessive nerve damage in his body, which is a common side effect and explains why he is in such a great deal of pain. The body’s ability to produce enough healthy red blood cells becomes affected, meaning not enough oxygen is being pumped around the body. I’m concerned with the nosebleeds your father has been experiencing—how often have you been getting them, Anthony?” he asks, turning to my father. I sit in a daze, trying to process the information he has just given me.
“Okay, you need to come in weekly for scans and stick to the treatment plan we have in place. In the meantime, I will have you placed on the waiting list as discussed. I’m sorry it wasn’t the news we wanted.”
“Waiting list?” I ask, only catching the end of what he said.
“Your father will need a liver transplant, I’m afraid all other treatments have been ineffective, and the next step would be a donor.”
“Thank you, Doc. Could you give us a minute, Mason?”
I snap out of my daze and stand in a rush to exit the room. “Of course, I will wait in the car,” I mutter as I leave the room, pulling at my tie as I lean my back against the closed door, trying to control my breathing.
I look around the corridor spotting a little boy on the row of five chairs. I move to sit beside him, leaning forward and running my fingers through my hair.
A liver transplant.What the fuck!Why didn’t I know this?
“Hey, mister, you like my cwar?”
The little boy pulls on my suit jacket, drawing my attention to the car in his hand. It’s blue, with oversized wheels—another insignificant piece of information that I know I’ll never forget.
“Yeah, it’s cool, mate.”
“You want it?” he offers.
I turn towards him. “No, that’s okay, it’s yours, you keep it.”
“My mummy said we can’t always keep the things that we wove. I should give it to you,” he says reluctantly.
