A Step Of Faith Part 3

"I know it sounds bad," the doctor said. "But it could be much worse. Most meningiomas are operable and benign. Not all, but most."

"How do you know if it's benign?" my father asked.

"That will require a biopsy. Meningiomas are generally slow-growing, so sometimes we take a wait-and-see approach, but since you're already experiencing symptoms, it's likely that the tumor is putting pressure on your brain. I recommend that we perform surgery to remove the tumor and relieve the pressure. Then, after the surgery, we'll do a biopsy and determine whether the tumor is benign or malignant."

"If it's benign?" my father asked.

"Then there's no need for further treatment and we send you on your way."

My father nodded. "And if it's malignant?"

"Then we'll determine whether or not the cancer has spread to other parts of the body and go after it with all the arrows in our quiver."

"Which means I won't be able to walk," I said.

The doctor turned back toward me. "No, you should be able to walk."

"He means cross-country," Falene said. "He's walking across America. He's already halfway."

The doctor looked at Falene for a moment as if he was trying to decide whether or not she was being serious, then turned back to me. "No, you would have to postpone that. So Missouri isn't your home?"

"No," I said.

He nodded thoughtfully. "You'll probably want to be treated closer to home. It wouldn't make sense traveling this far for care."

"If I had a home," I said.

"You can come back with me," Nicole said. "I've quit my job, so I could take care of you full-time." She looked at me fondly. "It will be like old times."

I noticed the look on Falene's face.

"It's your decision," my father said. "But I think you should come back to Pasadena with me. I'd like to have you close, and we're just four miles from the UCLA medical center." Then he added, "It would be a good place to start rebuilding your life."

I looked at him, wondering what he had meant by his latter comment.

"UCLA is a top-ranked cancer hospital," the doctor said. "In fact, a former colleague of mine is out there. He's one of the top neurosurgeons in the country. I'd be happy to contact him."

"We'd appreciate that," my father said.

"I could still come down to help," Nicole said.

"We could write it off," my father said, always in accountant mode.

"What if I do nothing?" I asked.

Falene glared at me.

Peculiarly, the doctor looked less surprised by my question than everyone else in the room. "If you weren't already showing symptoms, maybe nothing. At least for a while. But even if it's benign, a brain tumor can still cause significant problems. In the short term, you'll only get sicker. In the long term, it could cause disability or take your life. Of course it's up to you, but I don't see that doing nothing's a real option."

Falene was still glaring at me.

"Any more questions?" the doctor asked.

"When can I leave?" I asked.

"You should spend the night," he said. "You can leave in the morning."

"I'll have to book our flight anyway," my father said.

"With your permission I'll contact the cancer center at UCLA and make a referral," the doctor said.

"You have our permission," my father said.

The doctor looked at me for confirmation. "Is that all right with you?"

"Yes."

"Okay. I'll tell the nurses to prepare for your discharge in the morning."

"Thanks, Doc," my father said.

"Don't mention it," he replied. He walked out of the room.

"That's good news, right?" Nicole said. "Meningioma?"

"Considering what it could have been, I think you might have just dodged a bullet," my father said. He put his hand on my arm. "It will be nice having you around for a while. Just like old times." He looked at me for a moment, then said, slightly smiling, "Hopefully better."

I nodded.

"So you'll be leaving in the morning," Nicole said. "I'll book my flight for tomorrow afternoon. That way I can spend the night." Nicole turned to Falene. "I can spell you."

"I'm okay," Falene said.

"You look exhausted," my father said bluntly.

"I'm okay," Falene repeated. She looked at me. "What do you want me to do?"

She looked exhausted, but I could tell that she was bothered by Nicole's intrusion. "Whatever you want."

For what felt like a long time she looked at me with an expression I didn't understand. Then she walked up and kissed me on the forehead. "Okay. Get some rest." She walked out of the room and I watched her go, sensing that something terrible had just happened. I wanted to call her back. I almost did, but Nicole broke my train of thought.

"When would you like me to come to Pasadena?"

CHAPTER Three