“If you wish to try to save the breast, the least invasive treatment includes chemotherapy to shrink the tumors before we try a lumpectomy. If the chemo doesn’t work, we’ll try radiation. I want to make the tumors as small as possible before we do the surgery.” The doctor watched, waiting for her response. When she simply nodded, he continued. “If that doesn’t work, or it spreads again, we need to consider a mastectomy.” He had a slight accent and his eyes were kind as he explained.
The doctor glanced at her file again, and when his gaze met hers, she couldn’t breathe. She knew what he would say next, and to hide from his hateful words, she hid in her memory of last night. Of Clay’s hands cupping her breasts, of his mouth on her, teasing her puckered nipples. She relived the warmth shooting straight to her core, the way her body responded to his touch, the way his eyes glowed with pleasure as he touched her. Could she deprive him of that? Deprive herself?
“Ms. Dreyfus, I would recommend the mastectomy now, followed by both chemo and radiation to make sure we’ve caught it all. Your mammogram last year was clear. This is a particularly aggressive form of cancer. You already have a new tumor forming that was small enough it didn’t show on the mammogram you took last month.”
No. She didn’t want to hear this, didn’t want to listen. She stuck mental fingers in her ears and sang la-la-las in her head.
“Ms. Dreyfus? Georgeanne?”
She refocused her gaze on him. “Not yet.” Her voice croaked the words. “Last resort. Okay?”
His lips flattened out as he pressed them together. “I don’t—”
“My body, Dr. Nassad.”
“Yes, it is. But I think you should discuss this with your partner. I understand losing your breasts is not an easy decision, but do you wish to gamble with your life?”
“My life, too.” Anger swirled around her. Why was she acting this way? Shock? Fear? Yes, both of those. But she wasn’t afraid of losing her life; she was afraid of losing Clay. Yes, he’d promised to stay by her side, but after his mother’s ordeal...and the way he loved her breasts? She couldn’t make that decision. Not yet. Not until every last possible cure was tried.
She stared at Dr. Nassad. “We try conservative first. And not a word about this to my partner.”
The doctor’s disapproval was evident in his expression and body language. “I can refer you to another—”
“No. I like you, Dr. Nassad. And I trust you, even though it seems I don’t. I just know that I have to try alternatives first.”
“Stubborn woman.”
The smile she directed toward his scowl was wistful. “Yes, sir. I am. My way first. We’ll continue to discuss the outcomes, keeping all options open. Okay?”
His scowl deepened, but he nodded. “No, not okay, but we will do as you wish.” He scribbled on a prescription pad and gave her further instructions before leading her to his office. He shook hands with Clay, offered more scowls directed at Georgie and shooed them out.
Their next stop was the in-hospital pharmacy where she got the drugs making up her first round of chemo. The information sheet was ten printed pages, including six listing side effects. She took her first pill before they left the hospital complex.
By dinnertime, food was the last thing on her mind. Figured. She was part of that .2% of patients who had an immediate reaction to the drug cocktail. Clay fed her ice chips and sips of ginger ale and she worried about how long he would put up with her.
“Don’t go there.”
She blinked at him. “Excuse me?”
“I know you, Georgie. I recognize the panic in your eyes. Not gonna happen, sweet pea. I’m with you. No matter what. Understand?”
She stared, her vision blurred by unshed tears. “Startin’ to.”
“Good. Now, we’re going to bed. I’m going to hold you in my arms and not only tell you how beautiful you are, but show you until you get it.”
* * *
Georgie stared at Cassie and Jolie. She was an only child. She could count her close girlfriends on one hand. These two women enfolded her like they were her lifelong BFFs. She’d tried to cancel their Girls’ Day Out, but they showed up at the door and wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Cassie put her hands on her hips, her expression stubborn. “We’re headed to JJ Nails to see Jacky and Jessica because they’re the best. And Tommy gives the most amazing pedicures in the metroplex. Don’t argue. You need to be pampered.”
Jolie looked up from reading the medical literature. “You definitely need pampering. We’ll take it easy. Plus, the massage chairs are awesome! You sit and get the works while Tommy does his magic. Then, when we have pretty feet, Jacky and Jessica take over.” She offered a tentative smile. “Having acrylics will help, hon. Your nails will get brittle from the chemo drugs.”