With those words, time stood still for Nick, who sat dumbstruck in his bed, staring at the doctor. “C-cancer?” he repeated, his voice shaky and higher than usual.
“I’m afraid so.” Dr. Kingsbury’s tone was gentle, her expression apologetic. “You have what’s called Ewing’s sarcoma. It’s a type of bone cancer.”
Bone cancer.
The phrase rebounded through Nick’s brain like echoes in a cavern, and his first thought was, I’m only twenty-three years old. How could I possibly have cancer?
Dr. Kingsbury answered this question for him before he could express it, continuing, “Ewing’s sarcoma affects mostly young people, and it usually forms in the pelvis or leg bones. Yours is in your tibia, your shin bone. It has eaten away at the bone, forming a hole there and causing the whole bone to weaken, which is why you fractured it so easily.”
Nick shook his head, not wanting to hear her words, not wanting to believe it. “A-are you sure? I mean, can’t doctors misdiagnose stuff like this?” he asked hopefully, refusing to accept the diagnosis unless she was absolutely certain of it.
Dr. Kingsbury watched him sadly. “Yes, I’m sure,” she replied. “The x-ray and CT scan pointed to cancer, but I couldn’t be absolutely sure that’s what you had until we did the biopsy. The cells we removed from your tibia were cancerous. That confirmed it – you have bone cancer.”
Nick took a shaky breath and did not reply. What more was there to say? He could not argue the diagnosis, could not deny the truth. Everything made sense now. The symptoms he had been experiencing, the tiredness, the weight loss, the pain in his leg... they had all been leading up to this diagnosis.
“I’m very sorry, Nick,” Dr. Kingsbury. “If you want, I’ll leave you alone for awhile.” She waited, and Nick gave a short nod. “Okay,” said Dr. Kingsbury understandingly. “I’ll come back to check on you later, and we can talk more then.” She hesitated a moment, waiting to see if he would say anything, which he didn’t. So, after giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder, she turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her and leaving him in solitude.
Sitting forlornly in the center of his bed, Nick felt like he should be trying not to cry by now, but his eyes were unexpectedly dry. He didn’t feel distraught; in fact, he didn’t feel at all. It was as if his whole body, his whole world, had gone completely numb. He sat there in a haze, blankly looking up at Dr. Kingsbury, yet not really seeing her. His surroundings, the walls, the furniture, everything, seemed to fade away, and the only thing his senses were aware of was that word, that devastating word that had broken his dreams and shattered his world.
Cancer.
***
As promised, Dr. Kingsbury came back later in the day, which Nick had spent the majority of blankly changing channels on the TV, unsuccessfully trying to take his mind off his diagnosis. He shut off the TV now and looked up at Dr. Kingsbury.
“So,” he asked flatly, “How bad is this? Am I going to die from it?”
“I will do everything in my power to keep that from happening, Nick,” Dr. Kingsbury said, and there was something in her voice that gave him hope. “But I can’t tell you how bad it is yet. I’ll need to run some more tests on you, to see if the cancer has spread. If it’s just in your leg, your chances of survival are very high.”
“And if it isn’t?”
Dr. Kingsbury paused, then answered carefully, “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
Nick nodded. “Okay,” he said. “So what kind of tests do you have to do?”
“Well, two of the places this type of cancer usually spreads to first are the lungs and the liver.” Nick blanched, and she continued quickly, “Nick, the hole in your bone is pretty small, and there’s a good chance the cancer hasn’t spread at all. We just have to make sure. I don’t want to scare you anymore than I probably already have, but we just have to make sure, okay?”
“I understand,” Nick said in a whisper. To be honest, he was scared; he was terrified, in fact. But he was also glad to have this woman as his doctor. She seemed to know what she was doing, and she had a way of talking to him that put him at ease. He trusted her.
“Good. Now, to check those areas, we’ll do a chest x-ray and an ultrasound. Both of these are simple, painless tests and won’t take long.”
Nick nodded, relieved. However, he sensed there was another part coming to this spiel, and he was right.
“The other part of the body that Ewing’s can spread to is the bone marrow. Do you know what that is?”
“Uh... it’s the stuff inside your bones... it makes blood cells or something, right?” Nick said, regurgitating information he had learned during his tutoring sessions in the early days of the Backstreet Boys.
“That’s right,” said Dr. Kingsbury with a smile.
Score one for Carter, Nick thought, pleased to know that now Dr. Kingsbury wouldn’t think he was a complete moron like so many others did. He really wasn’t, but his tendency to get nervous and stumble over words or say the wrong thing in interviews made it appear that way. He would still never live down the “I resign in Florida” slip-up, and that had been like seven years ago!
“Anyway, to check your bone marrow, we have to do a bone marrow aspiration. And I’ll be honest with you – that test isn’t very pleasant. But it’s necessary; do you understand?”
“Yeah,” Nick said with a sigh. “So when are you doing all this stuff?”
“Tomorrow,” replied Dr. Kingsbury. “I want to get the results as soon as possible so we know exactly how far along the cancer is and can begin treatment.”
“Treatment... you mean chemo, don’t you?” Nick asked quietly. He had already thought of this likelihood, and it was freaking him out. He knew what chemo did to a person – that was the stuff that made cancer patients so gaunt and pale... the stuff that made them get so sick and throw up nonstop... the stuff that made all their hair fall out. He raked a hand through his cropped blonde hair and wondered... would it all be gone in a matter of weeks?
“Yes, I’m afraid chemo is usually the first course of treatment with this type of cancer.” Nick’s heart sank. “I know chemo’s no picnic, but it can save your life. You just have to remember that.”
“I know,” Nick said, squaring his jaw. “It’s okay.”
Dr. Kingsbury gave him an affectionate smile. “You’re going to get through this, Nick,” she said optimistically. “You’re a fighter; I can tell.”
Nick managed a tiny smile. She seemed to think he was brave. But he didn’t feel brave. In truth, he was scared to death.
And that was exactly what he might be facing.
Death.
***
