I wouldn't trade this life, sickness and pain included, for all of the money in the world. I would relive this year again and again if it meant I ended up right here again. My hand squeezes thelarger one I'm covering, and Callum flips his hand over, raising mine to his mouth to kiss my fingers.
Just from that, I can breathe a little easier.
Two minutes later, the door opens. My pulse spikes, my palms grow sweaty, and my throat tightens.
"Hi, Sophie, Callum," Dr. Rajab greets us, shaking both of our hands. He sits behind his desk, folding his hands in front of him, and the air thickens with anticipation.
I try to scrutinize the expression on his face for clues. He's not smiling, but his face is soft, his eyes kind, but they've always been kind. I remember thinking the first time we met that he was in the right career, that he could putanyoneat ease.
"I've reviewed your pathology from your surgery, your post-radiation scans, and your bloodwork from today. I'm very happy to tell you that you currently haveno evidence of disease."
He says it so casually, like he's telling me to schedule my flu shot, that I almost miss it. I blink, the words blending together in my frantic brain until the last words finally register with me.
"No... no evidence?"
Dr. Rajab's smile turns bright. "Sophie, there is no evidence of cancer in your body."
Callum's breath hitches beside me, his hand squeezing my fingers and grounding me back to reality.
I swallow, voice shaking as I practically have to force the words out. "So you're saying that I'm... cancer-free?"
"Yes," he says simply.
"I'm cancer-free," I repeat slowly, my voice barely above a whisper. Relief smacks into me hard. When I turn to the man next to me, I see that his eyes are wet with unshed tears, but he's smiling at me. I half-laugh, half-sob the words, "I'm cancer free, Callum."
"Baby," he whispers, reaching to cradle my face. He presses his forehead to mine, noses brushing against each other, "You'recancer-free, baby..."
I fall into his arms, burying my face into his shoulder as the sobs overtake me.Months and monthsof pain and suffering and fear bubble out of me and overflow like a volcanic eruption. Callum just holds me steady through it, and I see out of the corner of my eyes, Dr. Rajab smiling softly and pushing forward a box of tissues.
Callum's arms tighten around me, pressing kisses to the side of my head and murmuring my name over and over again.
Like back at the store when I spoke with Paul, I feel all of those horrible emotions flowing out of me and draining to the floor, to be washed away forever. In their place is love, and happiness, and hope, and joy.
I revel in the sudden absence of fear and anxiety.
It takes a couple of minutes, many tissues, blowing my nose twice, and many deep breaths before I can speak again.
"Thank you," I gasp out, turning to Dr. Rajab. "Thank you so much."
"You are so welcome, Sophie. Now," he says gently, "let's talk about what happens next. Survivorship is its own phase of treatment, and I want you to feel fully prepared for it."
Callum and I straighten in our seats, but don't let go of each other. He's moved his chair against mine and keeps his large arm wrapped around me, hand brushing up and down against my arm. I lean into him, but focus on the doctor.
"First," Dr. Rajab says, "you'll take your chemotherapy pill for five years. It dramatically lowers the chance of recurrence."
I nod, "And after five years... ?"
"We reassess," he says. "Some women stay on it longer, but we'll decide together when we get there."
"And for..." I start to ask, my eyes briefly glancing at Callum before continuing, "... family planning?"
Callum straightens in the chair, glancing at me with a small,hopeful smile. I turn back to Dr. Rajab, whose face softens, as if he wants to minimize a blow but not cut off my dreams of children with Callum.
"Will it... be possible?" I ask quietly.
He doesn't sugarcoat—but he doesn't take away hope either.
"It is possible," he says. "We can absolutely talk about that now. It is very possible for women in your situation to conceive naturally after treatment. Many do. Some experience difficulty, and others explore assisted options. Some go for adoption. Chemotherapy and hormone therapy can impact fertility, but they do not guarantee infertility."
