Sitting on the exam table, waiting for Dr. Andersen to come in, had Nick thinking all sorts of thoughts. The hopeful word remission popped into his head once or twice. She never elaborated why he needed to come to her office ASAP, just that she needed to see him.
Nick started planning in his mind all the things he could start looking forward to without the worries of the chemo, never knowing when he would be sick one day to the next. There was the new CD, the eventual release of his solo CD, and now the racing boat that he purchased for his father. This was going to give him more opportunities to be with Aaron from time to time and that was part of the reason why Nick had plunked down a little over a quarter of a million dollars for the watercraft.
He stiffened as the door creeked open, Dr. Andersen entering the room as always, his growing chart in her hands.
“Good morning Nickolas.”
“Good morning Dr. Andersen,” Nick grinned nervously. He waited for a smile back from the woman, his heart sank when he was greeted with a tight, phoney smile.
“I asked you to come in because there was some confusion with the results of your blood draw the other day,” the doctor started out as she thumbed to the page where the blood results were. “It showed your liver enzymes were elevated. I want to have another draw done today, hopefully it was a clinical error on the lab’s part.”
“What does it mean if it wasn’t a mistake?” Nick questioned anxiously.
“There are too many things that would point to that Nick, let’s just take this one step at a time. I’m going to have April come in and take your vitals and draw the blood from your port and have the test redone and I’ll be back in a moment.”
Sighing heavily as the door clicked shut, Nick waited for the nurse to appear and get things started so he could escape the office and enjoy his day. He was feeling pretty good up to this point but now that the hopes of good news of remission had been thrown away for the moment, he was starting to grow bored and impatient.
After the young nurse came in and did Nick’s vitals including the dreaded scales to check his weight, she left the room and Dr. Andersen returned.
“You’ve lost ten pounds since last month?”
Nick glanced down at his swollen stomach. “Yeah hard to believe.”
“Not eating well?”
“I eat when I can there are some days I just can’t do it, but I try,” Nick replied in an apologetic voice.
“You really need to try a little harder. Nutrition is important. Your blood pressure is low too. Are you fatigued often?”
“I’m tired 24/7 but I’m getting pretty used to it. I take power naps during the day, it’s the only way to deal with the chemo.”
“You wouldn’t let me check your stomach the last time I did an evaluation, I really would like to do a full evaluation this morning,” Dr. Andersen stated in an authortative voice.
“I know I did, but it gets sore sometimes,” Nick said wistfully as he placed a protective hand on his stomach.
“Sore? Does the pain come and go?”
Nick shrugged his shoulders. “No, not really.”
The doctor peered over the tops of the glasses that were perched on her nose. “Not really? Nick, you have to be honest with me, I can’t help you if you don’t help me. Does it stick with you all of the time?”
He could feel the tears burn in his eyes. Not trusting his voice, he shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, “I guess not, I don’t know,” Nick lied.
Dr. Andersen approached her young patient and directed him to lay down on the table, a supportive hand on his back as she guided him to a laying position.
“I’m going to check your abdomen, let me know when it hurts,” she said before she pressed a hand into Nick’s stomach. Each time she pressed in an area, the doctor looked at her patient’s face for an indication of pain. Every press brought a wince from Nick, but no remark about pain. “Hurt?”
“Just uncomfortable,” Nick replied in a short breath.
When Dr. Andersen pressed down onto Nick’s liver, he gasped at first and then screamed out in pain. Doubting her touch, she apologized before she pressed down onto the liver area. Nick’s response was a sharp gasp followed by panting breaths.
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry I had to do that,” the doctor apologized again. She started to reach out to touch Nick’s stomach again when he suddenly grabbed her arms and pushed them away.
“No more.”
Sweating and taking quick, short breaths, Nick was barely able to sit up. She had hurt him by pressing into his stomach and he wanted desperately for the pain to stop. Before Dr. Andersen could plead for Nick to allow her to palpitate his stomach again, the phone mercifully rang.
Wiping the cold sweat that had beaded up on his forehead with the back of his hand, Nick barely listened to the doctor’s half of her phone conversation. He silently prayed that she would drop the issue of checking his stomach out. She had already stirred up so much pain he doubted he would be able to stand up straight and walk from the office building.
The woman ended her phone call briskly as she hastily scribbled notes on a slip of yellow paper.
“Your lab results were the same as the one in question, Nickolas, the enzymes were high,” Dr. Andersen announced.
“Well couldn’t it just be that I’m having an off week or something that I ate or something?”
The doctor sighed. “It’s not that simple, I wish it were, there are too many things that could be causing this.”
Looking down at his distended stomach, Nick mumbled, “Such as?”
“Anything from liver damage from the medications you’ve been taking, to drinking too much alcohol over a period of years, to a benign tumor to a cancerous tumor on your liver,” she paused for a moment, looking at her patient with teary eyes. Dr. Andersen turned away quickly to try and collect her emotions before Nick noticed she was upset. She wasn’t sure of what was going on with the young man, but being an oncologist she had seen many cases through her years of practice and she was afraid his outcome would end up being as bad as the others.
Clearing her throat, she handed Nick the yellow slip of paper. “You need to give this to the front desk and they will schedule some tests. When I pressed on your abdomen, I noticed that there were still a few enlarged nodes and I think it would be wise to increase your dose of chemotherapy. We need to be more aggressive with this cancer to beat it.”
Nick’s head snapped up when the doctor mentioned increasing the chemo. Tears welled up in his eyes.
“I know it sounds like you’re not making progress,” the woman sighed as she placed a comforting hand on her patient’s shoulder, “but we need to slow this up before it takes over you. We should start the increase as an inpatient to see how you tolerate the higher dose and to get your body adjusted to it. I’m not going to lie to you, the first few days on this will be really rough.”
Nick stubbornly shook his head. “No, let’s just do this like we’ve been doing it, as an outpatient, I’ve got too many commitments, I’m sure I’ll manage.”
“There is an option of a feed through the port and having a portable pump attached in a pack with the chemo medication, if you prefer, but if you take this option, you would have to come to the office twice a week to see me.”
Nick glanced at the slip of paper in his hand. “What tests did you order?”
“An MRI, a CT and an ultrasound of your abdomen and a standing order for blood draws. Have you decided which option you would like for your chemo or do you want to think about it and come back tomorrow?”
“Let’s do this as soon as we can before I change my mind,” Nick replied, his voice void of emotion.
Stumbling through the garage in a daze, Nick felt numb about his visit with Dr. Andersen. Wadding the yellow slip of paper into a ball, he hap-hazardly tossed it towards the wastebasket, completely missing it’s target.
The thoughts of ‘this can’t be happening... I’m supposed to be getting better, not worse’ played in his head like a broken record, over and over, taunting him. His stomach started it’s normal ritual of sending stabbing, shooting pains causing Nick to stagger backwards into the wall with a small thud. Nick allowed the tears that welled into his eyes to flow the familiar trail down his cheeks. He started to wonder if this was really worth the effort with the chemo. He jumped when the door leading from the house opened suddenly and quickly brushed his tears away with the back of his hand.
“Holy shit, you scared me,” Leighanne squeaked, nearly dropping the newspapers she carried in her arms.
“I’m sorry,” Nick mumbled, and then cleared his throat and walked over to her, taking the papers from her arms. “Let me take care of that for you, you know Brian would have a fit seeing you do this, does he know you’re carrying those?”
Leighanne rolled her eyes. “I’m pregnant, not handicapped, boy you guys are really protective.”
“Well I wouldn’t want to know you strained something for the benefit of the environment and recycling,” Nick playfully reprimanded.
Leighanne giggled at his comment and rubbed her stomach softly. “Yeah, Brian would shoot me... wait he would shoot both of us, you shouldn’t be doing stuff like that yourself.”
Nick’s expression soured as he tossed the papers into the green tub. “Well, like you just said, I’m not handicapped.”
“Oh Nick, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to come out that way--”
“It’s okay, let’s drop it,” he replied, forcing a grin on his face.
“I am getting pretty big, though, don’t you think?”
Nick glanced at her hands rubbing her swelling stomach. “Yeah, I think you’ve finally got me beat in that area.”
“Brian and I have to leave tomorrow morning for Atlanta, the doctor here was questioning my size and we decided it would be best to see my OB doctor in Georgia for his opinion.”
“Is everything alright?” Nick questioned, alarm in his voice.
“Everything is fine, he was suspecting that either my dates are way off or that I have too much amnotic fluid. I’m starting to feel like a blimp though, it’s really getting harder for me to bend over and tie my shoes,” Leighanne smirked.
“God, I know that feeling myself,” Nick mumbled.
“What?”
“Skip it, let’s go inside, Brian is gonna freak out if he sees us two bloated bellies hanging out in my garage.”
Leighanne playfully swatting Nick on the shoulder. “You’re not as bad as I am, stop beating yourself down.”
“Sorry, force of habit.”
“Nick! Where the hell have you been?” AJ rasped when he encountered the two in the kitchen.
“I just got home, I had things to do.”
“What did the doctor want?” Brian questioned as he placed a cup and a plate on the counter.
“Same old stuff, nothing important,” Nick lied.
“Honey, I told Nick we were going to see my doctor in Georgia and we would be back a few days later, right? You said a few days?”
“Yeah, a few days,” Brian agreed.
“Is Lee okay?”
“Nick, I already explained this to you, I’m fine, they just are checking my size, I’ve gotten so huge so quickly, it happens to other women, nothing to be concerned over,” Leighanne reassured.
“Me and Howard are going to be catching the red eye tonight, he wants to see his family and I need to get back to Sarah,” AJ commented. “I just finished arranging the flight, I better go tell numb nuts so he can pack his shit.”
“AJ, don’t be so crude in front of Leighanne,” Brian scoled, his face turning a pale shade of crimson.
“So is Kevin leaving too?” Nick asked hopefully.
“Nope, Kevin’s been assigned as your foster father until we get back,” AJ cackled.
“Peachy,” Nick breathed. He hugged AJ. “Well, in case I don’t wake up before you go, I appreciate you coming down here, and have a safe flight.”
“Don’t you feel good?” Leighanne questioned, concern etched on her face.
“Just tired,” Nick replied as he made his way to the cupboard, pulling his medication bottles down and doing the afternoon ritual of taking his pills. He mentally debated why he needed to keep doing this since the doctor bumped up his rate of chemo.
Taking the back stairs to his bedroom, Nick stripped his shirt off. The small chemo pump was attached to the waistband of his sweatpants and Nick almost forgot to unhook the aparatus but was quickly reminded when he felt a tugging at his port.
“Shit,” he mumbled as he detached the hardware. The line was long enough that he could lay it on the bed next to him and he was able to lay on his back to find a comfortable position to sleep in. Closing his eyes, he didn’t have to wait long for sleep to wash over him, but the sleep that was coming was going to be far from restful.
