Page 118 of Back in the Saddle

‘Forget about it, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you get better. What did the doctors say?’

Her throat constricted, she rolled her shoulders and clearedher throat. This she could do. Talk through possible diagnoses. Discuss the results. Research treatment options. Take him to the appointments. Help him at home. These were all tangible ways she could be useful.

‘I had tons of tests before I passed out. They ruled out a bunch of stuff, but they think it’s a tumour.’

Not a single muscle twitched in Caroline’s face. Her mind raced, combing through different brain tumour types. But she didn’t want to worry Finn, or herself.

‘What time are they rounding?’ she asked instead.

‘Should be soon. Do you want to stay?’ Finn gave her an unsure smile. ‘You might understand what they say. My accounting degree is hopeless against medical jargon.’

She nodded. ‘Of course.’

‘Thank you. Now, tell me about Oklahoma,’ Finn said, holding on to her hand.

Neither of them let go until the consultant neurologist came in with several residents and two medical students trotting behind him.

‘Mr McCarthy, how are you feeling today?’ the consultant asked from the foot of the bed, checking his chart.

‘Same as I did yesterday. Eager to finally know what’s wrong with me. Now that my wife’s here, I might even understand what’s going on.’

‘Caroline O’Kelly. Long time, no see.’ Short, square-jawed with a shaved head, the resident grinned at her. ‘Last I saw you, we were both languishing in the Ayr’s emergency department chasing away that bird … Was it a pigeon?’

Caroline snorted, standing to shake his hand. ‘It was a crow. Hi, Justin.’

The consultant looked to her. ‘You’re a doctor?’

Caroline bit the inside of her cheek. She hated to be puton the spot. ‘Yes. Though I’m taking a year out from the training. Figuring out my speciality options.’

The consultant grunted. ‘I’m Dr Henry Roering, consultant neurologist. I’ve been looking after your husband.’ He looked to Finn. ‘Are you happy for your wife to stay in the room, Mr McCarthy?’

Finn nodded.

Dr Roering asked one of the residents to present the case, asked if anyone had any questions. Caroline had a distinct feeling of déjà vu observing the set up.

It’s going to be you again soon.

‘So, Mr McCarthy. We finally have an answer to what’s been going on with you. You have a clear cell meningioma in your left cerebellopontine angle.’

Caroline let out a semi-relieved breath. It wasn’t good news by any means, but it wasn’t the worst news.

Finn blinked. ‘What’s that?’

‘Your brain and spinal cord are covered with different layers; they’re called meninges. They are membranes that essentially act like protection barriers. Meningiomas are tumours originating in these layers, and they can start anywhere in your brain or spinal cord. They’re actually very common – nearly one third of all brain tumours are meningiomas.’

‘Is it cancer?’ Finn asked.

‘No. Most of these tumours are benign. There are three different grades we use to classify them and various subtypes. Some we can just watch and wait, and nothing needs to be done for them immediately. But, unfortunately, yours is grade two. It’s a rare subtype which can grow fast and is what we call an aggressive tumour.’

‘You’re going to operate?’ Caroline asked, barely feelingher fingers as Finn crushed them in his hands harder with every sentence coming out of Dr Roering’s mouth.

‘Yes. I’ll have a neurosurgeon specialising in them come and meet you either later today or tomorrow to discuss the surgery further.’

‘Is that it? The surgery’s going to cure it?’ Finn asked.

‘Unfortunately, these tumours have a high relapse rate. They can recur in more than two thirds of patients after the surgery. So, we’re going to design a course of radiotherapy for after the surgery. That’s going to reduce the relapse risk.’

‘What if it still comes back, despite radiotherapy?’