The Art of Starting Over

Chapter 36 - Snakes and Butterflies

I wasn't angry anymore. I was scared. I was very scared. My insides felt like they were made of black, iron snakes.

It was ten to eleven. Millie and I quietly took a seat on the grey armchairs in the brilliant-white waiting room and waited for the nurse with the sleek, red hair to call us in. We didn't speak. We hadn't spoken at all since the scan. There was nothing to say, was there? We just had to wait. Just a few more minutes.

I tried to focus on Keith's soothing voice when I'd spoken to him that morning. I tried to focus on Sosa's encouraging words. I tried to focus on anyone or anything that could push her voice out of my head.

Who was she? And how could someone I didn't even know, with so little effort, crush me like that? Was she the same ten-minute babe he'd hooked up with right after he'd so easily dismissed me from his life? Or was she more than that?

My gut sank with the realisation that Jeremy meant what he said. He was not my friend anymore. He was not my anything anymore. And I never felt so alone.

A tall man with brown eyes, messy hair and a strong chin walked in and gave his name to the receptionist. I recognised him immediately. His son and wife appeared behind him seconds later. I watched them take a seat in the chairs opposite ours. I smiled at the boy, who gave me a sort of encouraging nod back. His mother looked better. Healthier and happier. Something inside me fortified.

Footsteps.

I looked down the corridor and the red-headed nurse appeared.

"Mrs Emily Buġeja?"

Millie and I stood up. The boy fitted his earphones into his ears, but our eyes met again. 

I know, his eyes told me. I know how hard this is.

My legs were shaking so much I was terrified they would cave under my own weight, but somehow I made it to the doctor's office and took my usual seat at his desk. Dr Debattista was already in position, elbows on the desk, chin in his hands, square spectacles on the bridge of his nose.

"Good Morning, Emily," he said in his velvety voice. "How are you today?"

The room was whiter than usual. Colder.

"Anxious," Millie answered frankly. "We took the PET scan yesterday..."

He nodded slowly. "Yes. How has your recovery been?"

My eyes riveted around the room, trying to figure out what was different. I heard Millie release a slow breath beside me.

"Good. I feel good," she said eventually. The ironic helplessness in her voice made my heart throb achingly.

Dr Debattista looked at her for the longest time. His eyes didn't flicker in my direction. "Marjorie was very happy with the operation and with your recovery."

Pause.

There had to be something missing in this room.

"As you know, she sent some samples for histology testing."

Another pause. The longest one yet.

And then I realised. It was the plant. The leafy plant that usually sat in the window was gone.

"The lab found cancer cells in your lymph nodes, Emily."

Silence.

The room became foggy. His voice became thicker, slower. My insides became hollow. I heard his voice as though it was coming from the next room.

"The scan you took yesterday confirms that the cancer has spread since the first CT. The lymph nodes in the groin area are inflamed and there are signs of metastasis to the lungs."