Garrett (8 page)

“Sutton is going to be so pissed,” Alex says. “I’m going to have to smooth some ruffled feathers.”

“It’s none of Sutton’s business,” I say, getting angrier by the moment over Alex and Sutton’s interference with my love life.

I mean sex life.

“Did you fuck her?” Alex asks in a low voice, and I lose it.

Spinning on him, I bring one forearm across his chest and the other against his throat, and push him back hard into the lockers, which shake with the force of the collision with his body. Pushing my face right up into his, I snarl, “That’s none of your fucking business.”

Alex’s eyes are wide with astonishment, then the fucker starts laughing at me. He can’t move, because I have him pinned by the chest and throat, but the fucker just laughs, and laughs, and laughs.

Frustrated, I release him and step backward, glaring at him. “What is so fucking funny?”

“You are,” Alex says between wheezing gasps. “You’ve got it bad.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…I’ve asked you dozens of times if you’ve fucked a woman that you’ve gone out with, and you always admit that you did. You may not kiss and tell all the deets, but you share with me and anyone else that cares to listen. But this time…you wigged out. Went all caveman, protective of Olivia. Dude…doesn’t matter if you fucked her or not…it’s clear you don’t want anyone even thinking about her in that way. You just told me all I need to know. You’ve got it so bad.”

“Fuck you, Crossman,” I grit out, and turn my back on him. But I can’t help the tiny smile that comes to my face, because, yeah…I think I might have it a little bad for Olivia.

“Are you nervous?” Stevie asks as he holds my hand in a death grip. He’s gone overboard in his attire today, wearing a white V-neck T-shirt, denim cutoff shorts that are cut so high the pockets stick out at the bottom, and a pink sequined vest with fur around the collar.

“No, but clearly you are,” I say as I pull my hand free and give it a shake to get the feeling back into it. “The Ativan seems to be working.”

Thank God.

Dr. Yoffman had prescribed me the antianxiety drug to take before the bone-marrow biopsy this morning. Within about twenty minutes, I felt a peacefulness come over me and wasn’t too wigged out by the fact he’d be punching down into my bone soon.

“I’m cool,” Stevie says, but I can see the wrinkles in his brow from worry. If I told him that, he’d have a major freak-out that he had wrinkles showing, so I hold my tongue.

I’m so grateful Stevie is here with me. I’m so fortunate to have him and Sutton taking turns…going through this process with me. I had a long talk with my mom last night and she’s really upset that she can’t be here with me. She has some vacation available and wanted to come right away, but I urged her to wait until after I started my treatments. I figured that’s when I’d really want her with me.

“Miss Case,” I hear from the doorway. Turning toward the sound, I see Dr. Yoffman’s nurse standing there with a chart in her hand. My pulse picks up a little, but I don’t feel the constricting pressure in my chest I had this morning as I stood in the shower.

While I got ready this morning, I tried to keep my thoughts occupied with Garrett. Last night was far more than I ever expected it would be. Sex for me will never be the same, and I never had a moment’s hesitation when Garrett asked me out again for tonight.

Well, maybe a moment’s hesitation. Part of me felt slightly guilty that I was using him to fill my mind with something other than cancer, and another part felt guilty that I wasn’t even sharing this fact with him. But most of me felt giddy that I would be seeing him again, so as I stood under the hot spray of the shower, when that panicked feeling started to hit, I just closed my eyes and remembered what it was like to have Garrett inside me last night.

I’m slightly shocked he asked me out again. When I made the bold decision to have sex with him, I fully expected it was going to be a one-time-only thing. Joy coursed through me when he asked me out again…but I tried to temper it with the knowledge that Garrett has gone out with a woman more than once. Since three times seems to be his limit, I might have one…maybe two more nights with him, and I’ll take it. And just as I have no problem seeking dependency on Ativan to calm my nerves, while it lasts, I’m going to take advantage of the distraction Garrett provides me from my worries.

We’ll just consider him to be a drug for me.

Standing up, Stevie and I follow the nurse back to an examination room. I notice a tray of instruments laid out on a blue paper cloth next to the exam table: a large needle and a long spike-looking thing with a blue plastic handle.

Okay…blood pressure escalating right now.

Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly and try to fill my mind with images of Garrett. It works for a moment, then the nurse distracts me by handing me a large paper sheet.

“You’ll need to get undressed…everything from the waist down. You can wrap this around you.”

“Okay,” I say, taking the paper from her.

“Did you take the Ativan as directed?” she asks as she flips open my chart.

“Yes…about half an hour ago.”

“Good, you should be feeling the effects of that,” she says with a quick smile. “The procedure is simple and quick.”

I nod at her, my throat so dry that I doubt words would come out at this point.

“Dr. Yoffman will be in shortly,” she says, and then she’s gone.

Stevie turns his back on me while I get undressed. After wrapping the paper sheet around me, I climb awkwardly onto the table and put my hands, which are slightly shaking, onto my lap. I kick my feet back and forth nervously as I wait.

“It’s going to be fine,” Stevie says as he steps next to the table and rubs my back.

“Sure it is,” I say with false bravado, and hate myself that my voice quavers.

Moving in front of me, Stevie places his hands on my shoulders and leans in close. “You are the bravest, baddest bitch I know. You amaze me with how you’ve handled everything so far. You are going to kick this cancer’s ass…I just know it.”

“Fuck yeah I am.” His words make me feel immensely braver.

“So, while we’re waiting…fill me in on your date last night. And I don’t care about what you ate or what you talked about. I want to know about the sex. Lay it on me, girlfriend.”

Snickering, I open my mouth to give him some minor details, but the door opens and I see Dr. Yoffman walking in, followed by the nurse.

He gives me a warm smile as he shuts the door, and then his gaze rakes over Stevie in all his pink, sparkly glory. He grins and offers his hand. “I’m Dr. Yoffman.”

“I’m her bestie, Stevie. Is this procedure going to hurt her?” he asks as he shakes my doctor’s hand, his eyes moistening with tears.

“It won’t be too uncomfortable,” Dr. Yoffman says. “She’ll be numbed up pretty good. I’m going to have you stand by her head…you can hold her hand through the procedure.”

“Okay,” Stevie says, his voice cracking.

Dr. Yoffman picks up the chart the nurse left behind and flips through some pages. Turning to me, he closes the folder and brings it up to his chest, folding his arms over it.

“So, we got back the results of your blood work and CT scan already. The CT scan shows an inflamed nodule on your lung, so based on that and the symptoms you’ve been having, I want to go ahead and start treating this as if it’s a stage-four disease.”

“Is that the worst kind?” I whisper fearfully.

“Yes,” he says as he throws the chart back down on the table. Walking up to me, he reaches out and squeezes my shoulder. “But like I told you before, this disease is treatable. We have a good chance of knocking it into remission. So I’d like to go ahead and start treatment tomorrow.”

“What does that mean? Start treatment?”

“I’m going to start you on a combo of Rituxin, which is an immunotherapy drug, and bendamustine, which is a chemotherapy drug. Tomorrow you’ll get both the Rituxin and bendamustine, both intravenously, then the day after, you’ll get another dose of bendamustine. We’ll do that treatment every four weeks for six cycles. I’ll do repeat scans at the halfway mark to see how you’re responding, and we’ll do another bone-marrow biopsy after the sixth cycle, and hopefully we’ll find it’s in remission.”

“And the side effects?” I ask quietly. “I mean…I know you said I wouldn’t lose my hair, but I’m sure something’s going to happen to me, right?”

“You might get a little sick. We’ll give you antinausea medication before the treatment, and I’ll send you home with some…but you might feel poorly for a few days. But then you should be fine.”

“Anything else?”

“We’ll monitor your blood…you’re anemic now, and I’ll put you on some iron for that. Because chemotherapy stops cells from dividing, it could affect your white or red blood cell counts, but otherwise this treatment is fairly mild and shouldn’t cause you too many problems.”

Okay, that doesn’t sound all that bad. And he says that this will probably go into remission. Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly and smile at him.

“All right. I can do this. So, let’s get this show on the road while the Ativan is still working.”

Dr. Yoffman laughs and turns to wash his hands in the sink. “That’s what I like to hear. Now go ahead and lie down on left your side. Stevie…post up by her head and hold tight on to her hand. This won’t be too painful, but I know it’s all kinds of scary. I’ll talk you through the entire procedure.”

I lay on my side, pulling the paper sheet around me so as not to expose myself to Stevie. Not that he’d be bothered by it, but he definitely wouldn’t know what to do with it either. I snicker to myself thinking that.

Stevie comes to stand near my head and takes my hand. “So, you were telling me all about having hot sex with Garrett last night.”

I rear up on the table and practically shriek at Stevie, “You ass…that’s not appropriate here.”

“Yes,” Dr. Yoffman says drily as he walks up to the table and eases me back down with a hand on my shoulder. “We want to keep her blood pressure stable, so no talking about hot sex while I’m doing this.”

Stevie’s face gets red and he mutters an apology. I reach out and slap him on the chest with a warning look to behave, then I take his hand in mine and squeeze it hard. He looks at me sheepishly and then his eyes start following Dr. Yoffman while he gets ready.

I can’t see anything, but I can hear Dr. Yoffman rustling around, the squeak of stiff wheels on the mobile cart that holds the instruments, and then the snap of gloves.

Dr. Yoffman pulls the paper sheet down, and judging by the cool air that hits me, I’m guessing he’s exposed my lower back and half my ass. “Okay…I want you to tuck your legs up, Olivia.”

I do as he asks and he starts pressing on my lower back, just above my right hip bone. “I’m looking for your sacroiliac crest. That’s where I’ll go in.”

He presses around, deeply, and then I can feel a cool, wet feeling. “I’m just marking you with a Sharpie.”

I feel more wetness rubbing in circles around the area and Dr. Yoffman says, “This is some Betadine, and now I’m putting a sterile dressing over the site.”

His hands press something over me, smoothing it into place.

I hear something rattle on the tray, and I watch Stevie’s eyes go wide and his skin get pale. “I’m going to inject you with some lidocaine now. This will sting just a bit.”

I barely feel the prick of the needle and I think to myself,
This isn’t all that bad.

“Now I’m going to get a little deeper with the needle so I can numb around the bone,” Dr. Yoffman says, but I still can’t really feel it. After a few seconds, he says, “All done.”

Stevie swallows hard and leans down toward me. “Holy shit, that was a big needle.”

“I hardly felt it,” I tell him with reassurance, and his hand squeezes me tighter.

“Okay, Olivia…I’m making a tiny incision,” Dr. Yoffman says calmly. “You won’t feel it.”

He’s right…I don’t feel anything.

“Now, I’m putting the Jamshidi needle in…you might feel a little pressure.”

Stevie’s face gets paler, then starts tingeing green. His eyes drop down to mine and he gives me a tremulous smile.

“It’s nothing,” he says, his voice cracking. “Just an itty-bitty needle.”

I chuckle and squeeze his hand, finding it hilarious that I’m the one that’s comforting him.

“Okay…the needle is in place. Now I’m going to put a syringe on and aspirate some marrow out. This is the part that might hurt a little. Deep breath in.”

I do as he asks and then it feels like an electric shock slams into my hip so hard, I gnash my teeth together.

“Oh…ouch, okay…that hurts,” I mutter, but then the intense feeling is gone.

“Good job, Olivia,” Dr. Yoffman says. “Now I’m going to get a core biopsy. I’m going to work the Jamshidi into your bone. You might feel some more pressure, but it shouldn’t be painful. Just have some patience and hold tight.”

I have no clue what Dr. Yoffman is doing now, but my body sways slightly back and forth and Stevie squeezes his eyes shut tightly.

“You okay?” I ask him.

“No. I’ll never be okay again,” he whines, his palm sweaty and slick against mine.

“Hey…it’s okay,” I coo at him. “Look at me.”

His eyes open and pin mine, tears filling up in crystal pools. “I’m sorry I’m such a weenie.”

“You’re not. You’re here with me, and that says a lot. And just think…when we’re done…we’ll go for a coffee and I’ll tell you all about my date last night with Garrett. Okay?”

Stevie swallows hard and nods, blinking the wetness out of his eyes.

My lower body continues to sway back and forth, and I imagine Dr. Yoffman is pounding the needle into my bone. Strangely…it doesn’t hurt that much.

“So, you had a hot date last night?” Dr. Yoffman asks genially.

“She’s going out with a professional hockey player,” Stevie says, his eyes brightening, and he even risks a peek up at Dr. Yoffman.

“Oh, do tell,” Dr. Yoffman says.

“She’s seeing Garrett Samuelson,” Stevie supplies before I can even get the words out of my mouth. “And Doc…he is H-O-T.”

Dr. Yoffman laughs. “I don’t know about those things, but he’s a phenomenal player. We were lucky to get him last year. Okay…I’ve got the core sample. I’m removing the needle now.”

I feel nothing, except some gentle prodding pressure. “No stitches are needed. I’m just putting a small bandage over this, and you can remove it a bit later.”

I hear the snap of gloves being removed, then Dr. Yoffman and Stevie are helping me sit up.

The nurse busies herself with taking the samples out of the room, and Dr. Yoffman washes his hands again. “You did really well, Olivia. I wish all my patients were that brave.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” I muse. “Although that could be the Ativan talking.”

Dr. Yoffman laughs as he dries his hands. Turning back around, he says, “You might be a tiny bit sore. Just take some ibuprofen if you need it. They’ll schedule you at the front desk for your treatment tomorrow and I’ll see you in four weeks, when we do the second cycle. But I’ll be calling you once I get the results in from the biopsy, and also we still need the PET results too.”

“That’s scheduled in three days,” I tell him.

“Good,” he says in acknowledgment. “In the meantime, you can call me if you have any other questions or concerns. I’m going to take good care of you, Olivia. I promise.”

“Thanks, Dr. Yoffman. You’ve been very kind,” I tell him.

He laughs as he heads toward the door. Shaking his head, he says, “Most patients don’t tell me that just after I’ve punched down into their bone. Thanks, Olivia. You just made my day.”

After he leaves, Stevie helps me get off the table and I quickly get dressed.