"Okay," I say, taking the paper from her.
"Did you take the Ativan as directed?" she asks as she flips open my chart.
"Yes...about half an hour ago."
"Good, you should be feeling the effects of that," she says with a quick smile. "The procedure is simple and quick."
I nod at her, my throat so dry that I doubt words would come out at this point.
"Dr. Yoffman will be in shortly," she says, and then she's gone.
Stevie turns his back on me while I get undressed. After wrapping the paper sheet around me, I climb awkwardly onto the table and put my hands, which are slightly shaking, onto my lap. I kick my feet back and forth nervously as I wait.
"It's going to be fine," Stevie says as he steps next to the table and rubs my back.
"Sure it is," I say with false bravado, and hate myself that my voice quavers.
Moving in front of me, Stevie places his hands on my shoulders and leans in close. "You are the bravest, baddest bitch I know. You amaze me with how you've handled everything so far. You are going to kick this cancer's ass...I just know it."
"Fuck yeah I am." His words make me feel immensely braver.
"So, while we're waiting...fill me in on your date last night. And I don't care about what you ate or what you talked about. I want to know about the sex. Lay it on me, girlfriend."
Snickering, I open my mouth to give him some minor details, but the door opens and I see Dr. Yoffman walking in, followed by the nurse.
He gives me a warm smile as he shuts the door, and then his gaze rakes over Stevie in all his pink, sparkly glory. He grins and offers his hand. "I'm Dr. Yoffman."
"I'm her bestie, Stevie. Is this procedure going to hurt her?" he asks as he shakes my doctor's hand, his eyes moistening with tears.
"It won't be too uncomfortable," Dr. Yoffman says. "She'll be numbed up pretty good. I'm going to have you stand by her head...you can hold her hand through the procedure."
"Okay," Stevie says, his voice cracking.
Dr. Yoffman picks up the chart the nurse left behind and flips through some pages. Turning to me, he closes the folder and brings it up to his chest, folding his arms over it.
"So, we got back the results of your blood work and CT scan already. The CT scan shows an inflamed nodule on your lung, so based on that and the symptoms you've been having, I want to go ahead and start treating this as if it's a stage-four disease."
"Is that the worst kind?" I whisper fearfully.
"Yes," he says as he throws the chart back down on the table. Walking up to me, he reaches out and squeezes my shoulder. "But like I told you before, this disease is treatable. We have a good chance of knocking it into remission. So I'd like to go ahead and start treatment tomorrow."
"What does that mean? Start treatment?"
"I'm going to start you on a combo of Rituxin, which is an immunotherapy drug, and bendamustine, which is a chemotherapy drug. Tomorrow you'll get both the Rituxin and bendamustine, both intravenously, then the day after, you'll get another dose of bendamustine. We'll do that treatment every four weeks for six cycles. I'll do repeat scans at the halfway mark to see how you're responding, and we'll do another bone-marrow biopsy after the sixth cycle, and hopefully we'll find it's in remission."
"And the side effects?" I ask quietly. "I mean...I know you said I wouldn't lose my hair, but I'm sure something's going to happen to me, right?"
"You might get a little sick. We'll give you antinausea medication before the treatment, and I'll send you home with some...but you might feel poorly for a few days. But then you should be fine."
"Anything else?"
"We'll monitor your blood...you're anemic now, and I'll put you on some iron for that. Because chemotherapy stops cells from dividing, it could affect your white or red blood cell counts, but otherwise this treatment is fairly mild and shouldn't cause you too many problems."
Okay, that doesn't sound all that bad. And he says that this will probably go into remission. Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly and smile at him.
"All right. I can do this. So, let's get this show on the road while the Ativan is still working."
Dr. Yoffman laughs and turns to wash his hands in the sink. "That's what I like to hear. Now go ahead and lie down on left your side. Stevie...post up by her head and hold tight on to her hand. This won't be too painful, but I know it's all kinds of scary. I'll talk you through the entire procedure."
I lay on my side, pulling the paper sheet around me so as not to expose myself to Stevie. Not that he'd be bothered by it, but he definitely wouldn't know what to do with it either. I snicker to myself thinking that.
Stevie comes to stand near my head and takes my hand. "So, you were telling me all about having hot sex with Garrett last night."
I rear up on the table and practically shriek at Stevie, "You ass...that's not appropriate here."
"Yes," Dr. Yoffman says drily as he walks up to the table and eases me back down with a hand on my shoulder. "We want to keep her blood pressure stable, so no talking about hot sex while I'm doing this."
Stevie's face gets red and he mutters an apology. I reach out and slap him on the chest with a warning look to behave, then I take his hand in mine and squeeze it hard. He looks at me sheepishly and then his eyes start following Dr. Yoffman while he gets ready.
I can't see anything, but I can hear Dr. Yoffman rustling around, the squeak of stiff wheels on the mobile cart that holds the instruments, and then the snap of gloves.
Dr. Yoffman pulls the paper sheet down, and judging by the cool air that hits me, I'm guessing he's exposed my lower back and half my ass. "Okay...I want you to tuck your legs up, Olivia."
I do as he asks and he starts pressing on my lower back, just above my right hip bone. "I'm looking for your sacroiliac crest. That's where I'll go in."
He presses around, deeply, and then I can feel a cool, wet feeling. "I'm just marking you with a Sharpie."
I feel more wetness rubbing in circles around the area and Dr. Yoffman says, "This is some Betadine, and now I'm putting a sterile dressing over the site."
His hands press something over me, smoothing it into place.
I hear something rattle on the tray, and I watch Stevie's eyes go wide and his skin get pale. "I'm going to inject you with some lidocaine now. This will sting just a bit."
I barely feel the prick of the needle and I think to myself, This isn't all that bad.
"Now I'm going to get a little deeper with the needle so I can numb around the bone," Dr. Yoffman says, but I still can't really feel it. After a few seconds, he says, "All done."
Stevie swallows hard and leans down toward me. "Holy shit, that was a big needle."
"I hardly felt it," I tell him with reassurance, and his hand squeezes me tighter.
"Okay, Olivia...I'm making a tiny incision," Dr. Yoffman says calmly. "You won't feel it."
He's right...I don't feel anything.
"Now, I'm putting the Jamshidi needle in...you might feel a little pressure."
Stevie's face gets paler, then starts tingeing green. His eyes drop down to mine and he gives me a tremulous smile.
"It's nothing," he says, his voice cracking. "Just an itty-bitty needle."
I chuckle and squeeze his hand, finding it hilarious that I'm the one that's comforting him.
"Okay...the needle is in place. Now I'm going to put a syringe on and aspirate some marrow out. This is the part that might hurt a little. Deep breath in."
I do as he asks and then it feels like an electric shock slams into my hip so hard, I gnash my teeth together.
"Oh...ouch, okay...that hurts," I mutter, but then the intense feeling is gone.
"Good job, Olivia," Dr. Yoffman says. "Now I'm going to get a core biopsy. I'm going to work the Jamshidi into your bone. You might feel some more pressure, but it shouldn't be painful. Just have some patience and hold tight."
I have no clue what Dr. Yoffman is doing now, but my body sways slightly
back and forth and Stevie squeezes his eyes shut tightly.
"You okay?" I ask him.
"No. I'll never be okay again," he whines, his palm sweaty and slick against mine.
"Hey...it's okay," I coo at him. "Look at me."
His eyes open and pin mine, tears filling up in crystal pools. "I'm sorry I'm such a weenie."
"You're not. You're here with me, and that says a lot. And just think...when we're done...we'll go for a coffee and I'll tell you all about my date last night with Garrett. Okay?"
Stevie swallows hard and nods, blinking the wetness out of his eyes.
My lower body continues to sway back and forth, and I imagine Dr. Yoffman is pounding the needle into my bone. Strangely...it doesn't hurt that much.
"So, you had a hot date last night?" Dr. Yoffman asks genially.
"She's going out with a professional hockey player," Stevie says, his eyes brightening, and he even risks a peek up at Dr. Yoffman.
"Oh, do tell," Dr. Yoffman says.
"She's seeing Garrett Samuelson," Stevie supplies before I can even get the words out of my mouth. "And Doc...he is H-O-T."
Dr. Yoffman laughs. "I don't know about those things, but he's a phenomenal player. We were lucky to get him last year. Okay...I've got the core sample. I'm removing the needle now."
I feel nothing, except some gentle prodding pressure. "No stitches are needed. I'm just putting a small bandage over this, and you can remove it a bit later."
I hear the snap of gloves being removed, then Dr. Yoffman and Stevie are helping me sit up.
The nurse busies herself with taking the samples out of the room, and Dr. Yoffman washes his hands again. "You did really well, Olivia. I wish all my patients were that brave."
"It wasn't that bad," I muse. "Although that could be the Ativan talking."
Dr. Yoffman laughs as he dries his hands. Turning back around, he says, "You might be a tiny bit sore. Just take some ibuprofen if you need it. They'll schedule you at the front desk for your treatment tomorrow and I'll see you in four weeks, when we do the second cycle. But I'll be calling you once I get the results in from the biopsy, and also we still need the PET results too."
"That's scheduled in three days," I tell him.
"Good," he says in acknowledgment. "In the meantime, you can call me if you have any other questions or concerns. I'm going to take good care of you, Olivia. I promise."
"Thanks, Dr. Yoffman. You've been very kind," I tell him.
He laughs as he heads toward the door. Shaking his head, he says, "Most patients don't tell me that just after I've punched down into their bone. Thanks, Olivia. You just made my day."
After he leaves, Stevie helps me get off the table and I quickly get dressed.
"Let's go get that coffee," I tell him.
"And I want sex details," he reminds me. "Lots and lots of sex details. I need something to scrub that procedure from my mind."
"Was it really that bad?"
"Oh, God, Olivia...you should have seen it. He was twisting that big-ass spike-looking thing back and forth to work it down into your bone. It was like he was tightening a screw or something. Grossed me out."
"Yeah, well, I'm glad I wasn't watching. It wasn't too painful. Except when he sucked the marrow out. Fuck, that hurt."
Stevie wraps me up in a warm hug, the little sequins on his vest digging in to my face as I rest against his shoulder. "My brave girl. So brave."
I stay in Stevie's embrace, letting him comfort me. Yeah...that didn't hurt that much, but I'm all kinds of scared over what's to come.
--
"He's got a huge package, right? Tell me I'm right," Stevie says as he blows across his caramel macchiato to cool it down.
"I'm not telling you any such thing," I grumble as I sip at my iced coffee. "Those details are for me and me alone."
"Aha," Stevie exclaims and everyone in Starbucks turns to look at him. Leaning in toward me, he whispers, "There's details, so that means you know exactly how big his package is, and I'm guessing you know exactly how he works that equipment."
I snicker and my cheeks fire red, but I hold my tongue. Yes, those details about what happened last night are for only me. They will remain in my memory, and I'll draw upon them when I want to erase the ugliness from my thoughts.
"I didn't think it would happen," I ponder out loud. "I mean...I hadn't intended for it to, but I don't know...I just--"
"Just wanted something that was good...exciting...something to take your mind off your troubles," Stevie supplies knowingly. "And I say, good for you, girl. Are you going to see him again or was this a one-time-only thing?"
"We're going out tonight again, but honestly...Garrett isn't a long-haul kind of guy, and frankly, at this point, I'm not sure I'm a long-haul kind of girl."
"Stop it," Stevie hisses at me. "Don't ever say that again. You and I are going to grow old together. I'm going to look fabulous when I'm eighty because I'll have had plenty of plastic surgery and Botox, and I'm going to have a fabulous sequined quilt to lay over my bony legs. You're going to be a beautiful silver fox, and we're going to sit on the front porch and sip mimosas all day long."
I smile at the imagery and at the confidence with which he boasts of such things. It's a beautiful picture and I truly want that to occur. Although I had sort of thought when I got to be eighty I'd be surrounded by my children and their children, not by Stevie wrapped in a sequined quilt.
"Sounds like I might be out of work for a few days," I tell Stevie thoughtfully. "At least tomorrow and the next day while I get my treatments, and then the day after that I'll be a bit late since I have the PET scan. And even if I'm sick, we can just put a garbage can next to the design table for me to puke in."
Stevie looks horrified over my joke. "No fucking way. I want you to take at least a week off. More if you need it. I got the store covered."
"Stevie," I say in warning, "I don't want you to treat me like an invalid. I need to feel normal, and normal to me is working."
"I can't stand puke. It will make me sick," he says adamantly.
"Then I promise to puke in the bathroom, but seriously, you heard Dr. Yoffman. He'll give me medicine that will combat that, and he said it should only last a few days."
"You can't overdo it, though. You have to promise to listen to your body, and if it demands rest, you need to give it rest. Which means that Garrett's going to have to lay off of you for a few days."
Oh, God. I never even thought of that. I hadn't planned on telling Garrett anything, because I had assumed that after tonight, I'd never see him again. In fact, I know tonight has to be the last night, because after that I am truly going to be out of sex commission due to my treatments.
Tonight is it for me. I'll have one more night with Garrett, and I'm sure it will be a spectacular night, but then it's time to part ways. He has more carousing to do, and I have cancer to fight.
Chapter 9
Garrett
I push open the door to Fleurish and saunter in. I'm not supposed to pick up Olivia until eight tonight at her apartment, but I just couldn't fucking help myself. I wanted to see her before then.
Stevie is helping a customer...some big thug-looking dude with a hangdog look on his face. I'm guessing he's in the market for some apology flowers.
Stevie's head swivels my way and a bright and knowing smile pops on his face. "Hey, Garrett...she's in the back."
The guy next to Stevie spares me a quick glance, then does a double take as he recognizes me. "Holy shit...you're Garrett Samuelson. My girlfriend and I are huge fans. We never miss a game."
I walk up to him and stick my hand out. He shakes it with a shit-eating grin on his face.
"Hey, man. Nice to meet you," I tell him. "Shopping for some flowers?"
The man's smile slides from his face. "Yeah...fucked up with my girl and hoping these will make things right."
"Well...I kind of like those white ones there with the little yellow centers," I say, pointing at a vase
within the cooler.
"Excellent choice," Stevie exclaims, and reaches in to pull the flowers out. "Nothing says 'I'm sorry' like happy daisies."
"Okay," the guy says hesitantly. "Sure. That will work."
"I know something that would be even better," I say, an idea popping into my head. Turning my back on the two, I walk over to the checkout counter and immediately see what I need. Grabbing a piece of paper from the printer that sits on a lower shelf and a black Sharpie marker, I hastily scribble some words.
Walking back over to Stevie, I take the flowers out of his hands and hold them up near my face, then bring the piece of paper up to the other side. "An apology would be even better with a personal message, right?"
They both read what I wrote and start laughing. The guy whips out his camera phone and takes a few pictures of me. I put on my most apologetic, simpering look, and ham it up big for the camera.
"Dude...you are like the fucking coolest guy I've ever met," the man says gratefully, and then he pulls up one of the pictures to show me. I look like a fucking dork, but his girl will get a kick out of this.
The sign next to my face says "He's really sorry. Please forgive him."
Handing the flowers over to the guy, I shove the piece of paper at Stevie. "My work here is done. Good luck, man."
Turning away from them to head to the back room, I'm brought up short when I see Olivia standing there, leaning casually against the entryway to the design area and staring at me with a smirk on her face. She's stunning, and I wonder if I'll ever get used to that little skitter of pleasure that floods through me when I first see her. I've never felt that before, and while it's an odd sensation, it's most definitely a pleasant one.
She's wearing nothing more than a pair of faded jeans, running shoes, and a T-shirt that bears the name FLEURISH on it, yet she's far sexier in this very moment than any other woman I've been with before. Fuck...she even has her hair in those loose pigtail braids again, and I hope she keeps them in tonight. Gives me something to grab on to when I take her from behind...and that most certainly is on the agenda for tonight.
"You're too much," she says teasingly.
I give her the best innocent look I possess. "What? No idea what you're talking about."
Cutting her eyes over my shoulder, she gives a nod. "You just ensured not only his girlfriend is going to forgive his transgressions, but also that he's most assuredly going to get laid tonight."