“Ninety-eight percent of the cases?”I ask, thinking about the two percent who aren’t lucky.Am I lucky?Maybe I am, but what if my luck has run out?
“In all my years of practice, I’ve only had five cases of Brenner tumors, Summer, and all of them were benign,” he tells me.“So, let’s get you admitted, and I’ll see you again at six tomorrow morning.”
“Wait a second,” Declan says.“That’s it?If it’s benign, why do you have to operate?”
“We’re going to snip out that ovary so we don’t have to worry about any malignancies down the line.But don’t worry.You have another one, so you won’t go into menopause.All righty?”
He looks from me to Declan and back again.I can’t think of anything to say or ask, but I know that somewhere in my blank slate of a brain, there’s something I should be asking.
“Is the surgery dangerous?”Declan asks.
“It’s a robotic surgical procedure that is safe and effective, and for someone young and robustly healthy as Summer, the risks are quite low,” Dr.Goldberg explains.“Your wife will be up and around tomorrow afternoon, but she’ll have to take it easy for a little while.”
We leave the office with Wendy.She gets me admitted and takes us to the fourth floor, where they’ve set up a private double room for Declan and me.I’m walking along, going where I’m supposed to be and doing what I’m supposed to do, while I feel goofy-happy and nervous all at the same time.
But Declan’s got my hand in his, and we’re together.
Wendy asks us if we need anything.Declan and I shake our heads, still in shock.
“Unfortunately,” she says, “since your surgery is so early tomorrow morning, you can’t have anything to eat or drink after eight o’clock.So.Nothing by mouth.If you’d like some ginger ale or tea, now’s the time.”
“Thank you,” I tell Wendy.
“We appreciate all your help today,” Declan adds.
Once we’re alone in the room, I’m not sure what to do.I’m no longer frozen with fear and staring death in the face.I’m relieved.But something feels off to me.Decisions are being made fast all around me, but I’m walking in sludge.
I wander over to the window overlooking the city.If I thought I was out of place in Las Vegas, I feel like I’m on an alien planet here.
Am I really having surgery in the morning?
Because I have a tumor that’s not a cancerous tumor but has to be taken out because one day it could morph into one?
Declan comes up behind me and wraps me in his arms.I lean against him, and he leaves a trail of soft kisses down my cheek and along my neck.He nibbles on my shoulder.
“Don’t get any ideas, Declan.Wendy said nothing by mouth.”
He chuckles into my ear, then spins me around in his arms.He dips me so far back that I have to lift a leg for balance, laying a kiss on me that’s grand enough for a Hollywood movie.
Declan makes my head spin.And now I know he’ll be able to make my head spin for years to come.He sets me upright and cups my face in his hands.
“You see?”he says.“We had to get through the rough to get to the easy.”
I squint at him in confusion.“And the easy is when I’m on the operating table letting a robot take out my left ovary?”
“Maybe after that.But once that’s done, it’s going to go down as smooth and easy as a yacht-rock music streaming channel.”
“You’re the oldest young guy I know, Declan.”
“That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
I get my ginger ale and Declan and I put on our pajama pants and T-shirts and snuggle up in one of the hospital beds.We talk for hours.We ramble on about everything except for tumors that aren’t cancer and robotic surgeries.
And the future.For some reason, we both avoid bringing up the future.
We mostly talk about the past.Declan tells me a few stories about the history of Yosemite Ranch that I’ve never heard before, which hardly seems possible since I’ve been present for well over a decade’s worth of Jamie’s tall tales.
He tells me more about how they all left the Navy at the same time at Cal’s suggestion so that they could concentrate on StellaR Tech.He tells me a bit more about his time as a SEAL.
