The Crimson Dagger - Vatican Knights Series 23 (2020) Rick Jones (ebook reader play store txt) 📖

Kimball laid down on the cot. It felt good underneath him. Looking ceilingward, his eyes began to grow heavy with fatigue. In time, while drifting with the images of the Virgin Mary and Shari sharing the same space within his mind, he eventually fell asleep.

Kimball Hayden, within the dim cast of light from a single lamp, neither slept within the Dark nor the Light, but within the Illumination that was in between.

CHAPTER SIX

Oncology Medical Center, Washington, D.C.

1500 Hours Eastern Standard Time

Five Hours Behind Central European Time (CET)

Shari Cohen literally thought that her heart was about to misfire within her chest. There was nothing worse than waiting, she considered. So far, she had taken blood tests, a pelvic exam and an ultrasound. Now, she waited what seemed to be an agonizing long time for the results, even though less than an hour had actually gone by.

When the nurse finally called her from the Waiting Room because the doctor was ‘ready to see you now,’ she felt an inner chill course along her spine that made her shudder.

When Shari entered the physician’s office, she noted the nameplate on the doctor’s desk: Dr. Amii Stefano. The doctor was young and had a pixie look to her, with small eyes and an upturned nose. When Shari took a seat before her desk, Dr. Stefano set aside a manila folder filled with documents and photos, interlocked her fingers, then smiled. It was a smile that Shari took as a good sign, at least one to ease her tension. Then she realized that the smile was practiced and hardly genuine.

“How are you, Ms. Cohen?”

“I could be better.” Shari’s eyes shifted to the manila folder, sending a subliminal message to Stefano ‘to cut to the chase.’

Dr. Stefano’s eyes followed Shari’s stare to the folder. “I see,” she said. Easing back into her seat, Dr. Stefano began to speak in earnest after her smile faded. “Ms. Cohen, the pelvic exam and ultrasound has revealed large cysts on both ovaries. The cyst on your left ovary is the size of a golf ball. The one on the right is larger than a baseball. I’m surprised you’re still standing. The pain must be agony.”

“Honestly, I haven’t felt much pain until recently. About a month.”

“My concern is the mass on the right side. Should it rupture, you’re going to be in a world of hurt. I think it’s prudent to remove both masses ASAP.”

“What about the shadows?”

Dr. Stefano hesitated before answering, as though she was choosing her words carefully. “Your cervical screening is showing the abnormalities of high-grade squamous intraepithelial lesions.”

“You mean cancer?”

“At this time, I would like to follow up with more sensitive diagnostic procedures aimed to prevent progression, if it is cancer. Right now, however, we haven’t confirmed whether it is or isn’t. Additional tests are warranted. It’s important that you understand that these readings could be indicative of precancerous changes.”

Shari could detect by the manner of Dr. Stefano’s voice that there was more. “And?”

Another moment of hesitation, perhaps a period to find the proper words once again. “If it is ovarian cancer, it often does not cause any symptoms until it has spread beyond the ovary.”

“You’re talking about the shadows.”

“Again, we’ll need additional tests to make a validation as to whether it is cancer or if it’s something else. Either way, those cysts will need to be removed immediately. Should the ovaries burst, the last thing we want is for precancerous cells to travel to other areas of the body.”

Shari could almost feel her will separating from her body. The truth of her mortality suddenly struck her in the solar plexus with the hard truth stunning her as though from a palpable blow. And then: “And my ovaries?”

“I think it’s best that they be removed. But we’ll know more by the time of the procedure.”

Shari was beginning to sound distant, though not entirely detached. “But I want children.”

“I understand the magnitude of your feelings, Ms. Cohen. This is not a unique situation, believe me. I have said the same thing to many others a hundred times before, and it never gets easier. If the tests are true and the cells are precancerous, we’ll have no choice but to remove the malignant tissue. If it has spread, if that’s what the shadows indicate, then a full hysterectomy will be recommended.”

“I wouldn’t be able to have children.”

“You can always adopt, Ms. Cohen. That is always an option to consider.”

Shari’s line of sight appeared to attach itself to a far and distant point that only she could see. Then she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then released that breath with a heavy sigh. Opening her eyes, Shari appeared refocused. “These cysts . . .” Her words trailed.

“The procedure is rather minimal. Three small incisions and it’s done with a robotic system. You’ll arrive at seven, be prepped by nine, and the procedure will be over within sixty minutes, maybe longer depending on the results of additional findings and how much actually needs to be removed. We can—”

As a sour lump cropped up inside her throat, all Shari could think about was Kimball and how much he wanted a family. The boy has to look like me and the girl has to look like you. These fifteen words continued to ring inside her head like a mantra as Dr. Stefano’s voice droned on—at least to Shari—with nonsensical sounds. As the chant inside her mind eventually faded to dying whispers, only then did she grasp the last few words of Dr. Stefano’s exchange.

“—the day after tomorrow.”

Shari snapped from her reverie. “I’m sorry. Your last statement?”

“I would like to perform the procedure the day after tomorrow. I believe it’s imperative that we remove the cysts and the threat of the sacs rupturing.”

For the next fifteen minutes, Dr. Stefano outlined the procedure in depth, though Shari’s mind was somewhat adrift. She nodded at all the proper parts of the physician’s explanations, accepting her word as gospel.