Page 44 of Someone to Call My Own
“Most likely benign…”
“Surgically remove the tumor to relieve the pressure on your brain and perform a biopsy to make sure it’s benign. You can see the tumor has smooth, well-defined edges, which normally indicates that cancer is not present.”
“How long do you think I’ve had this tumor?” I asked her, snapping out of my trance.
“It’s hard to say for sure, but I’m going to say at least five years for it to have reached this size.” The tumor on the screen behind her didn’t look that big, but it still scared the fuck out of me.
“Five years is how long I’ve been having visions,” I said absently, more to myself than anything.
“Visions?”
Here’s the part where she decides I’m crazy. “Five years ago, I woke up from a coma after a nasty accident that claimed my husband’s life. I had a mild brain injury that took a while to heal. When it did, I began having psychic visions. At first they came to me in my sleep, and I thought they were dreams, but my abilities have grown since then.”
Dr. Rosenau placed her elbow on her desk and tilted her head to the side. I was relieved to see curiosity in her eyes, not disbelief or derision. “Go on.”
And I did. I told the doctor about my work with law enforcement agencies over the years, including most recently assisting Jon’s friend, Beau.Jon.God, how I missed him. It felt like years—not months—since I left Jon sleeping in his bed. “You think I’m crazy, right?”
“Absolutely not,” Dr. Rosenau said, surprising me. “There’s been a lot of scientific studies about psychic phenomenon and where it comes from.”
“There has?”
Dr. Rosenau nodded and continued. “Psychic ability is associated with changes in function in the frontal and right temporal lobes. One increases and the other decreases. Synesthesia, which is like cross-wiring in the brain, is a legitimate neurological condition. People who refer to themselves as psychic often have synesthesia. They see and hear the world differently. Some people with this condition suffer serious psychiatric breakdowns while others learn to manage their newfound abilities.”
“Wow, I could’ve used you in my life when my mother wanted to have me committed,” I said then laughed dryly. “Do you think my head trauma caused both the synesthesia and this tumor?”
“It’s entirely possible that your head trauma triggered the cross-wiring in your brain, but your tumor is in the lining of the brain and most likely isn’t related at all.” Dr. Rosenau folded her hands on her desk. “The brain is a very complicated organ, Mr. Whelan, and there’s a lot we don’t know about it,” she explained, “but I can tell you that your tumor is operable, most likely benign, and I’m confident that you’ll live a long, healthy life.”
“Brain surgery sounds terrifying,” I said honestly. “Can you tell me what it entails?”
“Absolutely.” Dr. Rosenau then patiently explained what I could expect if I agreed to surgery.
If? I’d been miserable the last month with unimaginable pain. I couldn’t fathom living the rest of my life in that kind of agony. Every day was an endless headache that no over-the-counter medicine could touch. My vision had started to blur and I became dizzy more frequently. I went to the local doctor in Blissville once the tingling started in my arms and legs. I knew that something was really wrong with me. The doctor ordered a series of tests that uncovered my tumor.
“I’ll perform a keyhole parietal craniotomy and remove the tumor. My neuropathologist will evaluate the tissue under a microscope to determine if it’s benign or malignant so we know what additional treatments you will need. After surgery, we’ll prescribe medications to keep the swelling and inflammation down. If I’m unable to remove the entire tumor, we may use radiation to eradicate what remains.”
As much as I didn’t want to live in pain, the thought of her cutting open my skull and digging things out of my brain was terrifying. “How soon?”
“If it’s benign like I suspect, it’s a matter of what you can tolerate. The headaches can become debilitating and the tingling you feel in your left arm and leg could worsen or weaken and cause you to collapse.”
“I’m going to have the procedure, but there are a few things I’d like to do first.”
“Are you talking about days, weeks, or months?” she asked me.
“Weeks.” I wanted to spend time with Memphis and my grandfather. I hoped to see Josh and Gabe’s babies when they brought them home. I needed to look into Jon’s eyes once more and see love and desire instead of resentment and sadness. He’d been absent from Josh and Gabe’s since their wedding, except for their surprise baby shower at Kyle and Chaz’s house two weeks before Christmas. We spent a few hours in the same house and didn’t speak to one another. I had something I needed to tell Jon, just in case things didn’t go so well for me.
“Well,Christmas is in a few days and New Year’s is the week after. How do you feel about mid-January? Will that be long enough?”
“I’ll make it work. Let’s get it scheduled.”
We went over the pre-op tests that I was required to undergo the week before surgery, so I knew I had to do my traveling and get back to Cincinnati in two weeks instead of three.
“Emory!” Granddad joyfully cried when I entered his study. “Oh, it truly is Christmas. How long are you staying, my boy?”
“I thought I’d stay with you until after Christmas and then I thought I’d ring in the new year with Memphis.”
Connor Whelan shoved the quilt that covered his legs to the side and slowly rose to his feet. I would’ve told him to stay seated, but he wouldn’t have listened. “Come give an old man a hug; I don’t know how many Christmases we have left together.”
“Don’t say that, Granddad.” My voice thickened with raw emotion. I hugged my granddad as tightly as I dared while being careful not to hurt him. He had always seemed larger than life to me and feeling his frailty rocked me to the core. He had always been my champion in the world; my hero. There was no way I’d risk not seeing him one more time.