Dick Francis's Gamble - Felix Francis [67]
“And what is a wedge biopsy, exactly?” I asked.
“A small sample that is removed, like a tiny bite, which is then tested to see if it’s clear,” he said. “Then I will sew everything up and Claudia will be back here before you know it. About two hours in total, maybe a fraction more.”
“And if the biopsy’s not clear?” Claudia asked.
“If I can tell that straightaway just by looking,” the surgeon said, “then I’ll have to remove that ovary as well. Otherwise, the biopsy will be sent to the lab for tests. There is a slight chance that I may also need to perform a complete hysterectomy if I find cancer cells attached to the uterus. But I think from the scans that that will be most unlikely.”
Claudia looked at me with rising panic in her eyes.
Dr. Tomic spotted it. “Claudia,” he said, “I promise you I will do as little as possible. But we have to deal with this. It won’t go away on its own. I have to tell you everything that might happen because I need your consent to proceed. You will understand that I can’t wake you up halfway through the operation to ask your permission to remove your womb if I need to do it in order to save your life.” He smiled at her. “But I really don’t think it will come to that.”
“Can’t you just remove the tumor?” I asked. “Do you have to take the whole ovary?”
“The tumor will probably have taken over most of the ovary and it is the only way of ensuring it doesn’t return.”
“If the second ovary is clear, does that mean it will remain so?” I asked.
“Let’s cross one bridge at a time,” he said. “We’ll discuss the future after the operation.”
I took that to mean no, it probably wouldn’t remain clear.
My mother’s wish for grandchildren was not looking too promising.
“Right, then,” said Dr. Tomic, “I need you to sign here.” He pointed. “And here. And here.”
Claudia looked at me in despair. I pursed my lips and nodded at her. She signed the papers. What choice did we have?
“OK,” said the surgeon, taking back the forms from her. “I’ll see you in the OR in about twenty minutes. Wait here, they’ll come for you.”
I wanted to tell him to be careful with my girl, but I didn’t. Of course he’d be careful. Wouldn’t he?
If the previous evening had been bad, the next twenty minutes were intolerable.
Dr. Tomic had left the door open, and every time someone walked down the corridor outside we both jumped.
What was there to say? Nothing. We both just watched the clock on the wall move inexorably around from eight-fifty to nine o’clock, then ever onwards to nine-five and nine-ten.
Claudia held on to my hand as if her life depended on it.
“It’ll be all right,” I said. “You heard what he said, you’ll be back in here before you know it.”
“Oh, Nick,” she said miserably, “if I come out of this with only a tiny piece of an ovary left, let’s use it to have kids.”
“OK,” I said. “You’re on.”
“Marry me first?” she asked.
“You bet,” I said.
It was an unusual proposal, but we were in an unusual situation.
At nine-fifteen an operating room orderly arrived, wearing blue scrubs and a cloth hat.
“Please be careful with my fiancée,” I said to him as he wheeled her bed out of the room and into the corridor. “She’s very precious to me.”
I went with her to the lift. However, the orderly said that he was sorry but I couldn’t come any farther. I looked at Claudia’s frightened face until the closing lift doors cut off our line of sight, and all too quickly she was gone.
I went back into her room and sat down on the chair.
Never before had I felt so desperate, so helpless, and alone.
In truth, it was not a great start to an engagement.
Claudia didn’t come back for nearly three hours, by which time I was almost crawling up the walls of her room with worry.
Sitting alone in that hospital room had been far worse than spending three times as long in a cell at the Paddington Green Police Station.
I spent some time going over in my mind what must be happening downstairs in the operating room, mentally