Aoife looked with intent at the man sitting opposite us. The stark white walls around us squeezed closer and closer. All sounds were lost by the endless ticking of the clock in the deathly silence. Here we waited. Lifting his head with a tear like silver, glistening in the corner of his eye, his voice broke the silence. As the tears ran down Aoife’s flawless complexion, her olive green eyes gazed, her mind churned in confusion and our life as we knew it, now changed. Leaving, I put my arm around her bringing her comfort. Comfort she has come to know and love. Comfort that found her. Comfort that will change in the future.
As we walked through the door, she kept her head down unable to make eye contact with the woman in the sky blue outfit. I put on a brave face, and smiled. Still dealing with the news we had just been given, Aoife, protected in the comfort of my arms, made her way through the automatic doors and into the journey to a life where ease and happiness hanged in the balance. The next few months were going to be the worst of our lives, the tests which follow, the questions needing answered by the people she never wanted to meet out with social occasions. Thinking of these social occasions thoughts started racing through her mind. ‘Will I survive? Will he?’ That ‘he’ is not me, it’s our son. But he is not with us yet. Not properly.
We are still 2 hours away from home. She isn’t hungry, she won’t talk and I don’t blame her. I am finding it hard to deal with but she has two people to think of. This could kill her and our son.
Ovarian cancer occurs in approximately 1 in 18,000 pregnancies, I didn’t know this but Aoife did. She knew it was serious, that it could fatal. Everything was fine up until the last ultrasound. That was when he saw the mass, when we started to worry. We didn’t tell anyone, we wanted to make sure it was cancer. It is. Now we have to tell everyone. My family, her family and our daughter Ciara. How will she take it? She is only seven years old and knows mummy is having and baby. She even knows its boy, a little brother for her to play with.
We are finally home. Ciara is having a sleepover with granny, my mother. We have told my parents but we need longer to think about what to tell Ciara. Or do we? Should we say ‘mummy is going away for a while?’ We are afraid she will worry more if we tell her the facts about what is happening.
Aoife is shattered, and I understand. She hasn’t slept properly for weeks worrying about this. But she finally slept in the car on the way home. This gave me time to think. To let go of my emotions and to make sure I was strong later for Aoife. She needs me now and will from now on.
For the next few days she wasn’t with us. Not mentally. She seemed distant like she wasn’t even on the planet, in a daze like the rest of the world never existed. Wandering round the house like a zombie, ignoring everything and everyone around her. She wouldn’t talk or eat, only sleep. From the moment I got up till I went to bed she would be asleep on the couch, unable to move. I felt like I was a single parent. Caring for our daughter every second of every day. I didn’t want her to help, only to talk to me or Ciara, tell us how she felt or what we could do to help her. Every time I asked she would just look at me, well look through me like I wasn’t even there. Maybe she couldn’t, maybe it was too hard.
We had to go back to the hospital, to that room we got the news in. Today we had to make the decision. Does Aoife have surgery? But that could kill both of them. Do we wait till Harry is born and then Aoife has chemotherapy? But then it might be too late. We didn’t know. Aoife knew the risks of both. As we waited outside it all came streaming back to us. The day we sat here and waited to go in that room, to find out if it was true. Today I was more nervous. Aoife still looked lost in her own little world. Where everything was perfect and nothing ever went wrong. The place where she likes people to be after she meets them. The door creaked open and out came the doctor. He seemed to have a permanently sad face, staring at us, he said our name. I stood up quickly wanting to get this over with, Aoife hesitated. I sat back down and told her it will be fine. She wouldn’t look at me. I lifted her head and there she was, looking at me. I finally had her back. Her eyes told me everything. She was petrified, scared stiff. If she had one wish, she would have made sure this would never have happened. A tear ran down her cheek, she hadn’t cried since the second we were told. Now she was ready to talk, ready to move on. To get his whole ordeal over with and get on with her life. I asked the doctor if we could come back, that Aoife need ten minutes. He understood and let us go.
We went outside, to the garden at the hospital. A lovely place, so peaceful, yet unbelievably, full of families in the same position us. All sitting together, some recovering, some who have only just been given the news and waiting to see what happens next. Looking round I could see how this illness affects the whole family. Not only the person but their parents, siblings, children and partners. Everyone was suffering. It was as if the whole family had just been diagnosed, and in a way they had.
She was ready. As we walked through those same automatic doors I felt a sense of relief. My wife was back to her old self, ready to fight this and to prove so many things wrong.
We went straight into that room that ten minutes ago we were anxious to go into. He spoke to us, asked us our thoughts, how we wanted to deal with this. We explained we couldn’t decide. He had decided. The best thing was surgery. This had many risks, Aoife could die, Harry could die and worst of all they could both die. How would I explain this to Ciara? I wasn’t sure. Everything he seemed to say was against this operation yet he still wanted to go ahead. She looked at me, those olive green eyes got me again, she wanted this more than anything she has before. She wanted this to go away as soon as possible.
We decided to tell Ciara. Well not the whole truth. That would scare her. She sat there so still and quiet. Did she not understand? Maybe she thought if she was good and didn’t annoy Aoife or me it would go away? Maybe she thought it was her fault? I explained that mummy didn’t feel well, that she had to go away for a little while but she would get to see her as soon as she is back. Obviously she was upset, luckily she hasn’t had to deal with anyone in the family having a serious illness or dying but of course this meant she was even more scared about what will happen in the future.
Three days later we were back. Ready and eager to get started. But we had to wait a while. Aoife couldn’t eat anything for 6 hours before it. She didn’t want to fast as this could harm the baby but she knew she had to as she would feel ill afterwards. We didn’t sleep well last night. I was awake the whole night. Panicking I would be coming home without my wife and son. Aoife slept for a couple of hours. She was too tired to worry any longer. She is asleep now, lying here in this stark white room curled up underneath the covers trying to keep warm. I can’t sit still. As I pace up and down the room I hear voices coming closer and closer. Wishing the doctor’s aren’t coming in here I sit back down beside the bed. My leg bouncing up and down with fear, my nails getting shorter and shorter as I try to calm down. The footsteps became louder and louder. It was time.
Her grip on my hand loosened, her eyes closed and she was gone.
How could this happen to her? The person who helps people deal with trauma, the person who knows all the facts, who has years of experience, who has seen and helped people through the same circumstances she, Dr Aoife Neill, myself, our daughter and our unborn child have to deal with.
YOU ARE READING
The Silent Killer - Completed
RomanceAoife and Daniel have the perfect life. They are married, have a daughter named Ciara and a son on his way. But they didn't expect this to happen to them.
