Reprieve

“Mrs. Hunter,” Dr. Chandra began as he entered the exam room. “The mammogram results are why I asked you to come in today.”

My heart began to beat furiously and my palms began to sweat. It’s never good when they call you in to discuss the test results. I swallowed and nodded as he slid onto his stool. He opened his netbook and turned the screen to me. On it was a fuzzy picture of my breast.

“Right here,” he pointed at the screen and looked back to me. “This is suspicious. You can see it’s different than the surrounding tissue.”

I nodded, a voice in the back of my head repeating “Oh my God, Oh my God,” over and over again.

“What I’d like to do,” he continued, “is have a biopsy done. We’ll take a sample and look at it. It may be a cyst, totally benign.”

I grasped at that straw. “So, it’s nothing?”

He shook his head. “We won’t know until we take a sample and look at it. I’d like to do it sooner rather than later, Mrs. Hunter.”

What could I do, I nodded again. The blood drained away from my head. My head spun.

He shut the netbook and looked at me. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Mrs. Hunter. We’ve found whatever it is early. We’ll take a look and see what it is.”

I swallowed, trying to get some moisture into my mouth. “Sure. No worries.”

At the front desk the scheduler opened the doctor’s calendar. “We can get you in on Monday, Mrs. Hunter. Does that work for you?”

I pulled up the calendar app on my phone. “Yes, that’s good.” We spent the rest of the time going over what I needed to do before the procedure.

I just sat when I got into the car. My mind was a jumble of panic and things to do. Thanksgiving was next week. My son, Jeff, and his wife and kids were coming on Wednesday. Would I have the results by then? The procedure itself was an outpatient thing. No lotion or deodorant, just lie on the table and they’d stick a needle in to get a tiny sample. Still, I could feel the blood pounding in my ears. I wished Jack were still alive. He’d have hugged me and made a joke and allayed my panic. I wanted to cry.

On Monday, I went into the hospital. The procedure went according to plan and I was out in an hour and a half. They told me they’d get me the results on Friday. I thanked them and left. I really wanted the results sooner. I didn’t want to go through the holiday with this hanging over my head.

Jeff and his family arrived on Wednesday afternoon. It’s so nice to have the house full of the sound of kids again. It is too quiet all by myself. I didn’t tell them about the biopsy. Really, what is there to tell? There’s no need to worry them. We spent the rest of the evening making pies and catching up.

Thursday was a rush of cooking and preparations for dinner. The turkey in the oven and everything prepped we took a walk around the neighborhood at eleven. As Jeff pointed out items of interest to the kids and his wife, I looked at the trees. They were bare, only a few random leaves still on the branches. The trees looked cold, the way I felt.

At two in the afternoon, before we served dinner, the phone rang. “Hello?” I said into the kitchen phone as I pulled serving spoons from the drawer.

“Mrs. Hunter?”

It was Dr. Chandra, my heart sank. If he’s calling me now, something must be very wrong.

“Yes, Dr. Chandra. This is Eleanor Hunter.” I put the spoons down and gripped the counter.

“I wanted to call and give you the news, Mrs. Hunter. The biopsy came back clean. It’s just a cyst.”

There was a rushing in my ears as I struggled to understand. Joy washed over me. “Nothing’s wrong?”

“The results were definitive, Mrs. Hunter. We can schedule a visit later to discuss the cyst. I wanted to give you the new so you could enjoy Thanksgiving.”

I grinned, “Thank you, Dr. Chanda. Thank you. Yes, I’ll call your office to make an appointment. Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Happy Thanksgiving, Mrs. Hunter.”

I gently put the handset back into its cradle. Just a cyst. I took the spoons into the dining room, still grinning. Yes, a very Happy Thanksgiving.

The End

765 Words

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