Plain Paradise (22 page)

“No, it was
gut
.”

“Are you s-u-r-e?”

Linda giggled. “
Ya
, I reckon I’m sure.” She pulled a skillet of eggs from the oven and placed it on the kitchen counter. Then retrieved a plate of bacon.

“Do you want to eat on the patio?” Josie pointed to the large window in the kitchen. “It’s lovely out there this time of day. The birds are just starting to wake up, and it’s not too hot.”

“Sure.”

“We probably need to leave for Lancaster about nine fifteen.” She paused. “Are you sure you want to go?”

“
Ya
. I’ll just wait for you. It’s no problem.”

Josie wanted Linda by her side constantly; she just didn’t want to take a chance that Linda would find out about her illness. Not yet. “Okay. We’ll do something fun afterward.”

They filled their plates and moved to the patio where a glass table and four chairs were surrounded by flowering potted plants, and you could see Robert’s garden.

“What do you have planted?” Linda pointed to the garden as she took a seat in one of the chairs.

“Oh, that’s Robert’s garden. I think he has tomatoes, cucumbers, and some peppers. I’m not sure exactly.”

“We musn’t forget to water it while he’s gone.” Linda smiled, then bowed her head.

Josie lowered her chin.
I’m dying. If you’re there, stop me from dying
. Her silent plea was laced with bitterness, and an instant pang of guilt stabbed at her heart, which caused uncertainty.
If I don’t believe,
why do I feel guilty
? She didn’t need this type of confusion this morning. She raised her head and waited for Linda to do the same, then they both began to eat.

Josie and her daughter. On her patio. She was determined to live in each special moment without dreading the future.

Josie sat in an oak chair with a worn leather seat, facing a desk covered with papers and file folders, and she wondered how Dr. Phillips kept anything straight in this mess.

“Mrs. Dronberger.” Dr. Phillips walked in and extended his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too.” Josie stood up to shake his hand, then sat back down when Dr. Phillips took a seat behind the desk.

“I’ve reviewed all your files and test results. Has anything changed since Dr. Stoltzfus had your records forwarded to me? Any new symptoms or problems?”

Josie knew if she told Dr. Phillips about the numbness in her hand and arm, he most likely would subject her to further testing, or worse—admit her to the hospital. She’d waited too long to spend time with Linda. “No. Still just a lot of headaches.”

“Well, I’m going to recommend that you stay on your current meds for now, and I really don’t see the need for another MRI just yet, since you just had one a couple of weeks ago. But I would like to schedule you for one thirty days from now, so we can see what that tumor is doing.” He pulled off a pair of dark-rimmed reading glasses and placed them on the desk. Dr. Phillips was a well-built man of around fifty, Josie assumed, with a full head of gray hair and eyes that seemed careful not to reveal too much information. Josie assumed they trained for that in medical school.

Josie nodded, and waited for the doctor to go on. He rubbed his eyes, then replaced his glasses with a sigh. Josie knew what was coming.

Dr. Phillips opened a file and read for a moment. “I see where you had radiation therapy two years ago.” He glanced up at Josie.

“Yes. I did. And I was hopeful for a while. The tumor regressed, and my symptoms subsided. For a while.” She paused, crossed her legs. “But then I had a seizure.”

He read some more, then removed his glasses again. “Mrs. Dronberger, I see where you’ve also had chemo, and that failed as well. The only option left would be for me to try to remove that tumor, and . . .” He shook his head. “I don’t think I could give you more than a five percent chance of surviving the surgery.” He paused, as if waiting for a reaction that wasn’t coming. “Is this even an option for you?”

“No. I want to live out however long I have, not die on an operating table.” She folded her hands in her lap. “This is what I’ve been told repeatedly. Five percent.”

“That lesion is located in an . . .” He stopped and pulled a large envelope from underneath the file. “Here, let me show you.” Dr. Phillips pulled her MRI out and faced it toward her. “Do you see this?” He pointed to the lesion that Josie had seen a hundred times before.

She smiled politely. “Yes.”

“Where it’s located in the brain stem makes it almost impossible to get to. I imagine most doctors wouldn’t even consider it. And I’ll be honest with you, I’ve never successfully taken out a lesion of this size in this location, but there is a small window of hope should you ever feel that you want me to try.”

“Five percent isn’t much of a window, Dr. Phillips.” She folded her arms across her chest. She knew this would be a waste of time, but she’d endure for Robert, who couldn’t pass up any opportunity to get another opinion, even though they were all the same.

“No. It’s not.” He gazed at her, in the familiar, sympathetic way she’d gotten used to. “But, Mrs. Dron—”

“Just Josie.”

“All right. Josie, if your quality of life should come to a point where you are willing to take the risk, you should have that documented.” He paused. “For example. If you should lose the ability to remember, to think clearly, and it’s evident to your husband that your quality of life is suffering greatly, you might want to make sure that he has power of attorney to make decisions for you. It might be that at that point, the surgery would be an option. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand. My husband already has my power of attorney for such things.” She glanced out the window and wished she’d never come here, never allowed herself to have the tiniest glimmer of hope. She just wanted to pretend for two weeks that everything was normal.

They sat quietly for a few moments.

“Josie, have you had any type of counseling? Perhaps a support group of others who are going through what you are?”

“I’ve been in counseling, Dr. Phillips. I understand what’s happening.”

“Understanding it and dealing with it are two separate things.”

Josie stared out the window of the eight-story building. “I’m dealing with it the best anyone can, I suppose.”

They were quiet again.

“Do you have any questions?”

“Nope.” She turned toward Dr. Phillips. “I appreciate you seeing me on such short notice, but honestly, Dr. Phillips, you aren’t telling me anything that I haven’t already heard.”

“Then you do realize how your body will begin to shut down? Numbness, particularly on the right side. Motor functions will be affected, and even memory disturbances.” He wiped his forehead with his hand, then continued. “There will be increased brain pressure as the lesion expands, Josie. The headaches will become debilitating, and could even cause some changes to your personality. I’m assuming all of this has been covered by your doctors before me?”

“Yes. It has.” She forced a smile. “I understand.”

Dr. Phillips tilted his brow and looked at her uncertainly, waiting for more. Finally, he said, “Well, all right. Then I suppose we’ll have another look in a month.”

Josie nodded, stood up, and extended her hand. “Again, thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”

What Dr. Phillips didn’t understand was her ability to program herself for the situation. She’d learned that a long time ago. When she didn’t want Robert to worry, there was a program for that. When she didn’t want a doctor to see her cry, there was a program for that. When she needed to pretend that this was all a false reality, a program for that. She’d been doing it for so long, sometimes she actually believed she’d never have to face the grim reality before her.

She rubbed her hands together as she walked down the hallway.
Good
. Complete feeling. It had been like that all morning. She was glad she didn’t mention anything about the numbness to Dr. Phillips.

After she made her appointment for an MRI in a month, she walked into the waiting room to find Linda surrounded by four women. They all had their heads bowed and were holding hands. Linda looked up when she entered the room.

“I’m sorry. I have to go.” Linda stood up. “I will pray for each of your loved ones.”

One woman hugged her. “Thank you.”

Josie waited until Linda walked to where she was standing a few feet away.

“Normally, it’s not our place to minister to others, but all these women are sad about a very sick loved one, so we all prayed together. I told them of the Lord’s peace and how he never abandons us in our time of need.” She smiled, then her expression grew serious. “What did the doctor say about your hand and arm?”

“Oh, it’s fine. Just a neurological problem from the headache. No biggie.”
If there is a hell, I’m going there for lying
. “Let’s forget all this and go do something fun.”

Linda didn’t move. “Are you sure that’s all he said?”

Josie nodded. “I told you, no biggie. How about a trip to the mall? Does that sound good? And maybe get some lunch after that? By then, we’ll be hungry after that fabulous breakfast you made.” She headed toward the exit. Linda followed, waving at her new friends on the way out.

“Sure. That all sounds fine.”

Linda had been to the mall plenty of times with her
Englisch
friends since she’d begun her
rumschpringe
almost two years ago, but her friends clearly didn’t have the wealth that Josie had.

Linda thumbed through the blue jeans on the rack while Josie was in the dressing room.

“No one has to know if you want to try them on.”

Linda turned to see Josie standing beside her with several pairs of pants and a couple of shirts draped over her arms.

“
Ach
, I couldn’t.” Linda wondered if she would look like the women in the fashion magazines, or even like Josie. She smiled. “Or could I?”

“It’s only clothes. And you’re just giving them a try. It’s your running-around period, right?”

Linda thought for a moment, tried to visualize herself wearing the stylish blue jeans. “Okay.” She picked out a size she thought might fit and also grabbed a pink, lacy blouse, then walked to the dressing room.

After she slipped out of her dress, she pulled the tight blue jeans on, then slipped the blouse over her head. She had a slender figure like Josie’s, but enough curves to fill out the
Englisch
clothes. Vanity and pride were forbidden, and guilt rose to the surface as Linda studied herself in the mirror, but she pushed it aside, and just for this moment, she pretended she was one of the fashion models in the magazines. She put her hand on her hip and turned slightly to one side, the way the girls in the magazines did. She pushed her chest out a bit, puckered her lips, and wished she could pull her hair from the prayer covering to make the look complete.

“Can I come in?”

Linda’s heart jumped in her chest when she heard Josie’s voice, and she could feel the red taking over her cheeks. “Uh, wait. Um. Just a minute.” She gathered herself, then opened the curtain.

“You look adorable.” Josie smiled. “Do you want me to get them for you?”

“
Ach
, no. I’m not allowed.”

“Okay. I understand. Like I’ve told you, I don’t want to do anything to upset your parents. I just wasn’t sure if you were allowed since it’s your
rumschpringe
.”

Linda recalled the time Marian Kauffman wore blue jeans into town while she was in her running-around period. Her parents had found out, and even though they weren’t happy, they didn’t do anything because certain behavior is allowed during that time. Josie closed the curtain.

“Wait.” Linda pulled it open again. “I reckon, maybe it might be all right.” She lowered her head, but quickly raised it, now that she was aware she tended to do that.

“Great. I’ll meet you at the register.”

Linda stood looking at herself in the
Englisch
clothes, and suddenly she thought of her mother. Her
real
mother.

“Where are the clothes?” Josie asked when Linda met her by the register.

“I changed my mind.”

Josie’s brow crinkled as she spoke. “Are you sure?”