The drugs also made her swell with retained fluid so that she looked like she had put on another twenty pounds or so, and they made her so groggy that some of the time, she could barely carry on coherent conversation. He would sit at her side and hold her hand while she drifted off to sleep, hoping that once the transplant would be over, she would get better. He hated seeing her so sick and out of it.
When the day of Claire’s transplant rolled around, even Samantha cracked down on the visiting rules.
“Only immediate family members will be allowed in for at least a week,” Samantha told him seriously before he left on Thursday afternoon, the day before the transplant.
“Can I call her?”
“If that’s okay with her,” answered Samantha.
Nick was sure it would be. He knew how lonely Claire got in that place with only the doctor and nurses and her family to talk to (when she was awake and lucid, that was) and made a mental note to call her the next day.
The transplant would take place the following morning, but from what Claire had explained to him, it was very different from an organ transplant. Her brother Kyle would be put under anesthesia while the doctors extracted bone marrow from him, but Claire would be wide awake and receive the marrow through an IV, just like a blood transfusion. This put his mind to ease. At least they wouldn’t have to cut into her on top of everything else.
Nick called the hospital around eleven the next day and was put through to Claire’s room.
“Hello?” a female voice answered, but it was not Claire’s.
“Hi... this is Nick... um, is Claire there?” Stupid question, Carter.
“Oh, hi, Nick. This is Carrie,” answered Claire’s mother. “She’s right here; hang on, I’ll give her the phone.”
“Okay.” Nick waited, hearing muffled voices in the background.
A moment later, Claire got on the line. “Hello?” Her voice sounded weak.
“Hey, Claire? It’s me... what’s going on?”
“Hey... nothin’ much, just waiting.”
“Waiting?”
“For the bone marrow. Kyle’s not out of surgery yet.”
“Oh... okay. Well... hang in there.”
“I’m hanging.”
He chuckled, picturing her smiling on the other line. But then the tension overcame them both, and they fell into silence, neither knowing what to say. Nick couldn’t even imagine how nervous she must be; he was anxious enough himself.
“Oh my gosh,” Claire said suddenly, drawing in a sharp breath. “There comes my nurse... I think this is it, Nick.” She let out a weak laugh.
“All right!” he said, clutching the phone tightly.
“Okay, I need to hang up now,” said Claire. “Talk to you later?”
“Sure,” Nick replied. “And, hey, I have my doctor’s appointment tomorrow, so I’ll drop by, okay? I know they won’t let me in your room, but maybe I can just wave through your window or something?”
“Yeah, do that,” said Claire eagerly. “You gotta let me know how your appointment goes.”
Nick drew in a breath. “Yeah, I will,” he promised. “Well, okay... I’ll let you go now. Good luck. You’re gonna be just fine.”
“Thanks,” Claire said shakily. “See you tomorrow.”
“See you.”
They hung up, and Nick set to pacing back and forth across his kitchen, as if Claire would call back in the next five minutes to tell him whether or not the transplant worked. Ha, yeah right, as if it would be that instantaneous. He knew it would take a matter of days to tell if Kyle’s marrow was working at all, and even after that, there was still the risk of rejection.
He knew all of this, and still, he paced, not knowing what else to do. If it wasn’t bad enough to have to sit at home and wait while Claire went through all of this, the doctor’s appointment looming before him was beginning to make him nervous. He wanted so badly for Dr. Kingsbury to tell him that he was in remission, but what if she didn’t? That would mean more chemo and more worrying, and that was the last thing he needed right now. His nerves were shot enough as it was
***
“You’re awfully jittery today,” Dr. Kingsbury remarked the following morning, as she examined Nick.
“Sorry,” replied Nick, trying not to flinch as her ice cold stethoscope touched his skin. “I’m just kind of anxious, I guess,” he admitted.
“Anxious about what?”
“To find out if I’m in remission or not,” he said, looking at her hopefully.
“Well, I hope you are,” she said, giving him a smile, “but I don’t want to give you false hope. Things were looking good at your last appointment, but I won’t know anything definite till I get your test results.”
He nodded. “Um, what tests are you running today?” he asked in what he hoped was an offhanded sort of way. Really, the big question was would he have to endure another bone marrow? If his calculations were right, the last one had been at his third appointment with her, and this was his sixth. So if she wanted to continue doing them every three appointments, then that meant...
“I’m afraid it’s the works this time,” Dr. Kingsbury replied sympathetically. “CT scan, chest x-ray, and-“
“Bone marrow,” he finished despondently for her.
“You got it,” she said with a nod.
“So if the test showed that the cancer had spread to my bone marrow, would I have to have a bone marrow transplant?” Nick asked.
Dr. Kingsbury nodded. “Once it spreads to the bone marrow, a transplant is really the only treatment option. Chemotherapy can buy time, but it’s no cure.”
“Yeah,” Nick said dully. “A friend of mine just had a bone marrow transplant yesterday. She’s here in this hospital. Claire Ryan – you know her?”
“Claire Ryan... no, I don’t think so. Do you know who her oncologist is?”
“Um, I dunno, it’s some Spanish last name... Rodrigo, I think? Or Rodriguez? Something like that?”
“Oh, Rodrigo, yes. Dr. Malee Rodrigo. She’s an excellent oncologist. She specializes in lymphomas and leukemia. Is that what your friend has?”
“Leukemia, yeah,” answered Nick. “So do you specialize in bone cancer then?”
“Yes,” said Dr. Kingsbury. “I’m officially called an orthopedic oncologist. I’ve had training to treat all kinds of cancer, but I mostly deal with kinds of bone cancer.”
Nick nodded, wondering how she could stand seeing all those people with cancer. It sounded like a horribly depressing job to have. Then again, she was making a difference. Without people like her, he might have been dead by then. The thought of that sent icy chills running down his spine, so he tried to push it away. Think happy thoughts, Nick. Happy thoughts.
Like what, the bone marrow test?
AHH!
It was a no-win situation. But hopefully, he would walk out of the clinic that day with some good news. And if he had to suffer through another bone marrow aspiration in order to get that good news, it was worth it.
There you go, Nick, he coached himself. Look on the bright side. Cup half full, right?
Yeah. Right.
All this thinking was making his head hurt, just like the worrying was making his stomach hurt. He would be very glad when this was all over.
***
