Cracks in the Sidewalk (6 page)

The doctor rubbed her hand across her eye a second time, then continued. “A malfunction like this inhibits the release of certain hormones. They’re the hormones that affect your thyroid and regulate your ability, or, in this case, inability, to lose weight. As a result your central nervous system, or what we’d consider your control panel, is being bombarded with a flood of mixed messages.”

As they listened, Claire tightened her grip on Elizabeth’s shoulder.

“Because of this particular growth’s deep location,” Doctor Sorenson continued, “it’s inoperable. If it were located here on the pituitary gland”—she slid her fingertip a fraction of an inch to the right—“we could remove it surgically and follow up with radiation.”

“If it’s inoperable,” Elizabeth asked anxiously, “then how
do
you treat it?”

Doctor Sorenson hesitated for a moment, again rubbed her hand across her eye, then spoke in a softer voice. “Unfortunately, there isn’t any real treatment.”

“Isn’t any?” Elizabeth replied incredulously. “Isn’t any?”

“Not given the position of the tumor.” Suddenly the “growth” had progressed to a “tumor.”

“What then?” Elizabeth asked, her eyes brimming with tears. “I stay this way? I keep getting worse? What?”

Without waiting for the answer to her question, Charlie said, “This has got to be a mistake! Liz is only twenty-eight years old. She’s always been in good health. Did anyone check the X-rays? Did anyone make certain—”

“I wish it were a mistake, Mister McDermott, believe me I do. But unfortunately, the scan simply confirms what Elizabeth’s symptoms have already indicated.”

“How can something like this happen so fast? Up until a few months ago—”

“The probability is that it didn’t happen quickly. Given its size, the tumor has probably been there for some time. Unfortunately, there was no reason to look for anything until Elizabeth began experiencing symptoms from the tumor pressing on the pituitary gland.”

“Are you telling us there’s nothing we can do?” Charles asked angrily. “Nothing? Given the technology of this day and age, I find that impossible to believe!”

“Medicine has come a long way,” Doctor Sorenson replied, “but we’ve still got a long way to go. Elizabeth’s tumor is inaccessible, that’s the primary problem here. With a tremendous amount of luck, we might be able to reduce the size of it with radiation, but even that is iffy.” 

“Iffy is better than nothing,” Charles said.

“That’s yet to be determined. Before we decide on radiation therapy, Elizabeth needs to get a second opinion, preferably from Sloan Kettering or NYU.” 

“If a second doctor does suggest radiation,” Elizabeth asked, “what then?”

“We try it and see. It might help, it might not. I can’t promise anything. In a case like this, there is rarely an absolute cure. What we can hope is to put things in remission. Make this cancer something you can live with. If the therapy works, it will shrink the size of the tumor. Once the tumor is smaller, the pressure against the hypothalamus will be reduced.”

“And then?”

“We wait and watch. Even if we’re successful in shrinking the tumor, there’s always the chance it will regenerate itself and start growing again when we stop the treatments.

“Also, radiation therapy has its own side effects,” Doctor Sorenson warned. “Everyone responds to it differently. It’s difficult to say how it will affect you, Elizabeth. You’re young, and that’s in your favor. You may tolerate the treatments quite well. But with your health compromised as it is, I can’t promise that.”  

“I don’t care,” Elizabeth said. “If radiation is the only way I can get control of this thing then I’m willing to try.” She wouldn’t call it a tumor or cancer, it was simply a thing—an ugly thing that stood between her and a return to normalcy. 

Doctor Sorenson smiled. “Well, before we proceed with anything, I want you to get a second opinion. That will tell us whether or not you’re a candidate for radiation therapy.”

“And if I am?”

“Then we start radiation treatments and monitor the tumor’s response.” 

“How long before we know if it’s working?”

“We could see improvement within two or three months. But we need to get some of this fluid out of you first and let your stomach heal from the cesarean. Even if we do get a favorable second opinion, you still have to regain your strength before we can start radiation treatments.”

Elizabeth leaned back into her pillow and stared at the X-ray as Doctor Sorenson explained the medications she’d be taking.

“Am I going to die?” she suddenly asked.

The question sizzled through the air like a lightning bolt.

“Well,” Doctor Sorenson said hesitantly, “the prognosis is never good when the tumor is as large and inaccessible as yours. But if,
if
you are a candidate for radiology, it’s conceivable that we’ll be able to shrink the tumor.”

“Can I go home now?” Elizabeth asked.

“No reason why not,” Doctor Sorenson answered. “Just realize you’ve got to take it easy, get lots of rest.”

She handed Claire three prescriptions. “Have these filled as soon as possible. The Desmopressin will get rid of Elizabeth’s thirst and help her reduce the fluid build-up. It replicates the hormone her pituitary gland is no longer producing.” 

Charlie prided himself in being pragmatic, a man capable of cutting through the emotional upheaval of a dilemma to focus on solutions. Claire would fly into a tizzy over some insignificant thing, but not him. He believed every problem had a solution and his job was to find it. As the doctor began slipping X-rays back into their envelopes, Charlie asked, “Is there anything we can do?”

“Families can always help,” Doctor Sorenson said. “Radiation treatments, if we do proceed with them, can take both an emotional and physical toll on a person. Elizabeth will need a lot of love and understanding. And,” she added with a touch of sarcasm, “you might mention that to her husband.” She gathered her papers and left the room.

For a long while, no one said anything; the only sound came from a loudspeaker somewhere down the hall echoing out a call. The clock on the wall continued to move forward, minute after minute. Elizabeth looked at the clock and wondered how many of those precious minutes she had left.

She was so very tired—tired of the pain, of being poked and probed. Tired of the way this thing chipped away pieces of her mind and robbed her of yesterdays. Tired of struggling to move a finger or lift a hand. Elizabeth closed her eyes and saw three small faces looking up at her. Babies who needed a mother, children who would be left without someone to tell them stories, tuck them into bed at night, chase away demons, and offer a hand to hold.

She hesitated for a moment, looking at the future inside her eyelids. Then in a voice weighted with the challenge ahead, she said, “I
can
conquer this. I’ll insist on the radiation. It’ll work. It has to.”

Moments later JT walked into the room.

“Don’t get on me about not being on time,” he said, shaking his head in disgust. “I’ve already had all I can take!” He gave the McDermotts a slight nod, then turned to Elizabeth. “I suppose the doctor’s been here and gone, right?”

“Yes,” she answered wearily.

Claire took Charlie’s hand and said, “We’ll step outside for a while and give you time to talk.” Together they left the room and disappeared down the hall. 

Elizabeth waited for Jeffrey to speak.

After a few moments of pacing, he said, “Sorry I’m late.”

“What the doctor had to say was very important. You should have been here.”

“What the hell do you want from me? I already said I’m sorry!”

“I wanted you to be here. It looks like—”

“Get off my ass!” he screamed. “I’m killing myself, and all I get from you is—”

“Don’t take it out on me because you’ve got problems. You think I don’t have—”

“I knew this was gonna happen! I busted my ass to get here, and you give me a shitload of grief for being late. But do you ask why I’m late? No! Cause you don’t give a hairy-assed bean about my problems. All you care about is—”

“Okay,” Elizabeth interrupted. “I’m sorry. What’s the problem?”

“Not that I think you really give a shit, but I was in an accident. My car’s got three, maybe four thousand worth of damage.”

“Was anyone hurt?”

“Yeah, me! I’m up to my balls in debt now. How the hell am I supposed to pay for this? This shit’s never-ending! It’s one thing after another!”

“I know it’s not—”

“You don’t know the half of it!”

“Jeffrey, it’s not that I—”

“Look, I feel for you, being sick and all. But don’t compare your problems to mine. You don’t have bill collectors banging at the door. You don’t have kids bitching about this, that, and the other thing. You think my life’s a picnic? Well, think again, because it sure as hell ain’t!”

“I know it’s been hard—”

“No, you don’t! You’ve got no money worries, because Big Daddy takes care of you. But me, I’m dog-shit stuck to his shoes.”

“That’s not true.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really. Daddy cares about you the way he would a son.”

“Sure he does.” JT gave a contemptuous sneer. “A son he’s willing to toss to the wolves! You think I haven’t told him how bad things are? My back’s to the wall. I need a loan, or I’m gonna lose the store. Instead of helping out, he’s paying for you to have a private room!”

“I’ll talk to him,” Elizabeth volunteered.

“You’d better, because I’m at the end of my rope.” JT nervously paced alongside the bed. “If he doesn’t come through soon, I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” His words rocked between anger and whine, then more anger, and now the pitiful sound of a trapped animal.

“I’m sure he will,” Elizabeth said.

“I just can’t handle everything myself,” he moaned. “You’ve got to get out of here, Liz, and come home.”

“I am. The doctor said tomorrow, maybe the day after.”

JT stopped pacing and turned. “Great!”

“Yes, but there’s more.”

“More?” he said apprehensively.

Elizabeth took a deep breath and began slowly. “The scan they did showed a growth in the back of my brain—”

“A what?” 

“A tumor,” she continued, trying not to let her fear expose itself to him. “Doctor Sorenson said that’s why I’ve gained so much weight and why I’m having trouble remembering things. This tumor’s pressing on the part of my brain that—”

“So what happens now? They remove it?”

Elizabeth slowly shook her head. “I wish.” She gave a sigh that came from deep inside, from the part of her where each of her babies had once lived. “Because of where the tumor’s located, it’s inoperable.”

“You’re kidding! So what happens in a case like this?”

“I think they’ll try radiation treatments. I have to get a second opinion.”

Jeffrey gave a groan and started pacing again. “More doctors, more money. Please don’t tell me you’re not coming home. Please don’t say this is just going to go on and on—”

“Jeffrey!” Elizabeth exclaimed, her eyes growing teary. “I know you’ve got problems, but you could be more sympathetic about what I’m going through.”

He stopped. “It’s hard to be sympathetic when you’ve got alligators snapping at your ass.” The trace of a smile softened his face. “But I am glad you’re coming home. At least I won’t have to pay Maria to take care of the kids.”

“I wish that were true,” she said sadly, “but we’ll need someone to take care of the kids and help me. Mom can do some of it, but she can’t—” 

“You’re too sick to take care of your own kids?” he said sarcastically.

“Yes,” she answered. “The left side of my body is partially paralyzed. I can’t stand or walk alone, and I can barely move my left arm. I would have told you sooner, but with all the problems you’ve had…” Elizabeth stopped when she noticed the way JT eyed her with a hateful glare.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me,” he said. “Haven’t I got enough on my plate? I can’t take care of me and the kids. How am I supposed to take care of an invalid?”

“I’m not an invalid,” she answered indignantly. “I’ve got a problem, and hopefully in time it will—”

“Are you nuts? Out of whatever mind you have left? If you can’t stand, walk, or move from one spot to another, you’re an invalid!”

“Don’t say that! There are plenty of other things I can do. Anyway, Mom and Dad will help out.”

“Help out with what?” JT asked angrily. “Help play with the kids? Help take away the last drop of privacy I’ve got? Help you nag me about what a failure I am? No, thanks! If they want to help, your daddy can give me the loan I need. Other than that, I don’t need their help. And I don’t want them at my house!”

“Maybe not,” Elizabeth answered, “but I do.”

“Then go home with them. Go back to their house, and let them take care of you until you’re well enough to come home! They can afford it!”

JT stomped out the door before Elizabeth could explain the seriousness of her condition. To warn him that she might never again be able to care for their children, dance with him, stand in line at the supermarket, or clean the house. The precious ordinary everyday things she’d taken for granted were now gone.

~ ~ ~

W
hen Elizabeth’s parents returned, Charlie asked, “Where’s JT?”

Elizabeth wanted to lie, to hide the embarrassment and hurt of being cast aside as worthless, but what purpose would that serve? They’d learn the truth tomorrow or the next day. In time she’d have to confess she’d be going home with them, not to her own house, to her children, to her husband.

“He left. He had to open the store.”

“Did you tell him?” Charlie asked.

Elizabeth nodded. She waited, trying to swallow the tears, then said, “He’s having a really hard time dealing with the pressure of all this—the bills, the store, taking care of the kids. He thought maybe it would be better for me to go back to your house when I leave the hospital.”

“Our house?” Claire said quizzically. “Well, we’d certainly be glad to have you, but aren’t you anxious to get home to the kids?”

“Of course I am. And JT will bring them over to spend time with me. But right now I can’t even take care of myself. How can I take care of them? JT thinks it would be better this way. If it weren’t for all these money problems, he could hire somebody…”