“It depends on what stage we’re at. We’ll know more when we get more tests, and possibly a bone marrow.”
“Please don’t bullshit me,” I said, shaking my head vehemently. “What are the odds, Doc?”
Dr. Hudson swallowed, and Melissa’s grip on my shoulder tightened. “The five-year survival rate for adults with AML is around twenty-four percent.”
“Twenty-four percent.”
“Yes, but Macey, you’re still young, active...and we don’t know how far along it is yet. Let’s focus on beating this.”
“What a day, huh?” I cracked, but the doc didn’t return my smile.
“All is not lost, Macey,” he said gently. “We can start chemotherapy and see what kind of results it gives us.”
“And if that doesn’t work?”
“If that doesn’t work, we can try radiation. Maybe even surgery. But let’s talk about that if we get to that point, okay?”
I sighed, or tried to, because I couldn’t really breathe. “Will we get to that point, Dr. Hudson?” I asked, and the good doctor hesitated for a long time, as if he didn’t want to say it but knew he had to.
“I don’t have that answer for you, Macey.”
A heavy, smothering silence fell over the room, and I rested my head in my hands as tears spilled from my eyes. Dr. Hudson stood up and squeezed my arm one more time.
“Speak to the front desk before you leave and have them make you an appointment for a bone marrow. The soonest I have open, okay?”
“Sure,” I said with a sniffle, and Dr. Hudson hesitated.
“Macey,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
Dr. Hudson shut the door softly behind him as he left, leaving Melissa and I alone in the room, her arm still protectively around mine like a mother hen protecting her chick. And even then, it wasn’t enough to keep the terror from ripping out my heart and dancing on it.
“What am I going to do,” I said into the silence. It wasn’t a question, not really, and for a second, I wasn’t even sure if it had even been me to speak it. But when Melissa sat down next to me on the edge of the exam table, scooting closer to me, I realized it had been me who had spoken.
“You’re going to get through this,” she said softly. “That’s what you’re going to do.”
“Oh my God.” I burrowed my head in my hands as the tears slipped from my eyes, soaking the front of my shirt, rendering my helpless against them. My shoulders shook with each sob, and I hated myself for breaking down. I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to be weak. I wanted to beat this.
“I’m going to be right here, Macey,” Melissa said, standing up to wrap her arm around me in a motherly embrace. “I think you seriously need to consider telling your family about this, so you’ll be supported,” she continued. “It always,alwayshelps when patients have the support of their loved ones.”
“Okay,” I said with a sniffle and a shrug. “Yeah, fine.”
“Macey,” Melissa said, gently but firmly. “I’m serious about this. You can’t do this alone, okay?”
“No, I—I won’t.” I slipped off the exam table, grabbed my jacket, and headed to the door, still drying the tears from my face. I didn’t know where I was going or why, all I knew is that I had to escape, had to leave before my lungs stopped breathing and my head filled with any more fear.
“Macey,” Melissa said as I reached for the handle. I stopped but didn’t turn around. I couldn’t face her again. I couldn’t face anybody, not right now. Not even myself. “What about Jayce?”
Another heavy silence settled in the air between us, and again that sour taste of bile tried to claw its way up my esophagus. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, wishing I was anywhere else in the world than having this conversation right here and right now.
“I’ll end it tonight,” I said. “Please don’t tell him.” And before Melissa could respond to this, I opened the door and left, blindly heading somewhere, anywhere, that wasn’t here.
