This was it. Her self-imposed D-Day.
She’d been delaying a whole host of things, things she couldn’t put off any longer. She hadn’t set a date exactly but she’d decided that once the divorce was final and she had the paperwork that said so, she would have to face facts.
She took the envelope to the kitchen and slit it open with a knife.
It had been a month and a day since she’d seen Sam, one month and a day since they’d been in court. Her divorce was absolute. It was there in black and white in front of her. She was now officially a divorcee.
Before she could procrastinate again or let herself be distracted by the children, she did the two things she’d been avoiding. She slid her wedding and engagement rings off her finger and slipped them onto her right hand. It was a slightly tighter fit but she wasn’t ready to be without them totally, though she also had no cause to still be wearing them on her left hand. The rings felt heavy on her right hand and her thumb automatically fiddled with the bands. She supposed she’d get used to the sensation.
One more task to do. She picked up the phone but hesitated before dialling. She put it onto the kitchen bench while she deliberated. What if she didn’t need to make this phone call after all? She palpated her left breast with her fingers, hoping, once again, that maybe the lump had disappeared. But it was still there, about the size of a small walnut. She retrieved the phone and made a long-overdue appointment with her doctor.
‘Good morning, Juliet,’ Dr Wilson said as she called her into the consulting room. ‘What can I do for you today?’
‘I’ve found another breast lump,’ Juliet said as she sat down. She had a history of benign nodules and she’d had various tests done in the past but thankfully they’d all come back negative for any malignancy.
‘When did you notice this one?’
‘A few months ago,’ she answered honestly.
‘Any changes in this one?’
‘I think it’s got bigger.’
Dr Wilson looked at her with one eyebrow raised. ‘Any reason why you haven’t been in to see me sooner?’
Juliet knew that the change in the size of the lump should have sounded warning bells. It had, she just hadn’t had the time or energy to deal with it. Part of her had also tried to pretend that this lump was just like all the others and they’d been fine, hadn’t they? But she knew that this lump wasn’t the same—it had kept on growing.
‘Sam and I got divorced. I had a lot on my plate.’
‘I’m sorry to hear about the divorce?that must have been tough.’ Dr Wilson paused before adding, ‘Do you want my lecture on how important it is not to neglect your health now or should I save it for later?’
Juliet shook her head. ‘Save it. I know I owe it to my children to look after myself, that’s why I’m here.’
‘Fair enough. Let’s have a look at this lump, then, shall we?’
Juliet undressed and was poked and prodded for the first of what would become many times over the course of the next few days. The lump was tender but no worse than the others had been.
‘How big was it when you first noticed it?’ Dr Wilson asked.
‘About the size of a pea,’ Juliet recalled.
‘Just under a centimetre, then. It’s now between three and four. When did you notice that it had got bigger?’
‘Probably five or six weeks ago,’ Juliet estimated. It had been around the time she and Sam had gone to court, which was one reason she’d ignored it. It hadn’t reached the top of her list of priorities yet.
‘I think we need to check this out further. You can get dressed and then I’ll take some blood, and I’m also going to send you off for a mammogram. You haven’t had one before, have you?’
‘No, only ultrasounds.’
‘It can be a bit difficult to get a clear picture with a mammogram in the under forty-five age group because your breast tissue is still quite dense, but I want to do that so we can get a look at the size and shape of the lump and a clear idea of its position. I’m going to refer you for a biopsy as well but those results will take a little longer to get back.’
Juliet was dressed now and sat in the chair beside Dr. Wilson’s desk, extending her left arm, ready for blood to be drawn. The needle stung as it entered her arm and she watched the dark red blood fill up the vial, wondering what sort of nasty things her blood was harbouring.
‘I want you to have the mammogram this afternoon, and I’ll make some calls and see if I can get you in for the biopsy tomorrow,’ Dr Wilson said as she capped and labelled Juliet’s blood. ‘Is there someone who can help you with the children if the appointment times clash with school pick-ups? It might make it easier to get appointments for you if you can be flexible.’
Juliet nodded silently. She didn’t have a clue who to call but she was sure she’d think of someone once her brain had time to process all the other stuff Dr Wilson was talking about. Mammograms, biopsies, blood tests. She hadn’t actually said the word yet but Juliet knew what she was thinking. Cancer.
Juliet was struggling to get past that word. The word was stuck in her head, making it very difficult to concentrate on everything else Dr Wilson was telling her. The word was also stuck in her throat, making it difficult to breathe. Perhaps she’d feel better if that word was out in the open.
‘You think I have cancer?’
Saying it out loud didn’t improve matters much. She was breathing now but the tightness in her chest had been replaced by nausea.
Dr Wilson’s reply didn’t ease her fears. ‘I think this lump is different from the fibroadenomas you already have. It’s presenting more like a tumour because it’s growing rapidly and I don’t like that. I think we need to get as much information as we can to determine what we’re dealing with but, remember, not all lumps are malignant.’
Juliet nodded but nothing else changed?she still felt nauseous, she still had a new lump in her breast.
‘Do you want to call someone now? Get someone to drive you to the breast-screening clinic?’ Dr Wilson asked.
‘No, I’m okay, I’ll drive myself,’ Juliet replied, thinking that she needed to get through the mammogram as quickly as possible to make sure she was in time to collect the children from kindy and school.
‘Okay. But can you arrange for someone to drive you to the biopsy? Your chest is likely to be quite sore once the local anaesthetic wears off and you’d be wise not to drive.’
Juliet nodded and left Dr Wilson’s surgery with referrals for the mammogram and the biopsy and a follow-up appointment for two days hence. The receptionist would ring her with a time for the biopsy.
The mammogram was not the horrific experience she had been anticipating, judging from comments she’d heard from other women over the years. It was uncomfortable but in the scheme of things it was bearable.
Maybe she was in shock, numb to what was happening around her. She felt as though she was in a nightmare. The whole day had a surreal quality to it and she half expected one of the children to wake her up at any minute. Trying to take on board everything that she was being told was proving difficult when she felt as though she was wading through thick fog. Nothing was making sense. Was it really possible that she had cancer?
She tried to think through the situation but it was virtually impossible, partly because she had no facts yet and partly because she couldn’t believe it was really happening.
She got dressed after the mammogram and hoped she was giving all the right responses as the technicians gave her more information, but her mind had already moved on to the next day and to the arrangements she would have to make. There was a message on her phone with the appointment time for the biopsy. Who would drive her to her next appointment? Perhaps she should take a taxi. Who could she ask to collect the children? She knew that this might only be the beginning of a host of favours she could need from people. If there was bad news then Dr Wilson was right?she was going to need support. Where was this going to come from?
She put t
hose thoughts to the back of her mind while she drove to the kindergarten to collect Edward, focussing on the road and on getting there safely.
Edward’s face lit up with a delightful smile, Sam’s smile, when he saw her waiting to collect him—it was as though her presence was a big surprise. She wondered who would collect him if something happened to her and then quickly pushed that thought to the back of her mind as she hugged Ed to her when he arrived at her feet at full speed. He was closely followed by his best friends, Jake and Rory—they’d met on their first day of three-year-old kindergarten and were almost always together, like the three musketeers. Their mothers, Anna and Gabby, had become good friends of Juliet’s by association and she wondered if their friendship would stretch a little further if she needed their help.
She saw Gabby arriving to collect Rory, running late as usual. Gabby waved and came straight over to Juliet. ‘Hi, how are you? Rory was wondering if Ed would like to come for a play. Would that suit you?’ Gabby asked, not pausing for breath. She always did things at a fast pace and was always busy, and Juliet sometimes wondered if she ever slept.
‘Is there any chance you could have him tomorrow instead?’ Juliet hated asking but if Gabby was offering to have Edward surely she wouldn’t mind if it was tomorrow and not today? ‘I need to have some tests done and I’m not supposed to drive afterwards.’
The boys, sensing that their mothers weren’t in a hurry to leave, had made a beeline for the playground adjacent the kindergarten. Gabby and Juliet wandered in that direction too.
‘Are you having eye tests?’ Gabby asked.
Juliet knew that eye tests often involved eyedrops that dilated pupils, making driving difficult. She wished it was something that simple. She supposed she should explain; she would end up telling Gabby at some point anyway as she was sure to need her help. ‘No. I have to have a biopsy. I found a lump in my breast.’
Juliet heard Gabby’s sharp intake of breath and saw her eyes widen. ‘When did this happen?’
‘I noticed it a while back but I was at the doctor today.’
‘And you’re straight in for a biopsy?’
Juliet knew Gabby was considering the timeline, recognising the sense of urgency. ‘I had a mammogram today. My GP wants the information as quickly as possible.’
‘Have you got any info yet?’
Juliet shook her head. ‘No, the mammogram results will go straight to my GP and to the surgeon for tomorrow.’
‘How are you getting to tomorrow’s appointment?’ Gabby was firing questions at Juliet, once again barely pausing for breath.
‘I’ll catch a cab.’
‘Why don’t I drive you? I’ll make sure you get home and then I’ll pick up the boys and Kate and bring them home later.’
‘What about work?’
Gabby waved a hand, dismissing Juliet’s protests. ‘Finn’s around. I’ll just tell him he’ll need to manage the gallery—it doesn’t need both of us there.’
Gabby and her husband owned an upmarket art gallery and travelled frequently. Juliet started to protest and then stopped herself. As much as she didn’t like to ask for help, she would have to get used to it, just as she would have to get used to accepting help when it was offered. ‘If you’re sure, that would be fabulous. I’m a bit apprehensive.’
‘Of course you are, anyone would be, but I’m sure it will all be fine.’
Juliet wished she could be so certain. She was expecting bad news, she could almost feel it coming, but she didn’t comment. She called to Edward, told him they needed to collect Kate, and then gave Gabby the details of where and when the appointment was, and agreed to be ready an hour before.
The next week was a whirlwind of appointments. Juliet saw the specialist and had a core biopsy under a local anaesthetic; she had a follow-up with her GP and then went back to the specialist. It was all she could do to keep track of which doctor she was seeing on which day, which hospital she had to be at and which forms she needed to take with her, without having to worry about the routine things like feeding the children. Fortunately Gabby was fabulous. She stepped in and basically ran Juliet’s life for her, taking over all the general household chores and giving Juliet time to deal with the doctors and to hug her children. Over the next week Gabby alternated between being Juliet’s taxi service, nanny, personal shopper and cook, but even Gabby couldn’t stop the downward spiral that was Juliet’s medical condition.
Seven days after the mammogram the specialist delivered the diagnosis and it was just as Juliet had feared. The lump she’d been ignoring for several months was a malignant tumour.
She had breast cancer.
Juliet’s world was crumbling around her. She had two small children and she was on her own. She was divorced. She had breast cancer.
She wanted her old life back. She wanted her health back. She wanted Sam.
Gabby was supportive. Once again she cooked dinner for Juliet’s children on the night Juliet got her diagnosis and she offered to cook for Juliet too, but she couldn’t eat. She couldn’t imagine that she’d ever feel like eating again.
Gabby did what she could but she wasn’t Sam.
She’d offered to stay, had offered to keep Juliet company after the children had been put to bed, but Juliet had said she wanted to be alone.
She’d lied.
What Juliet wanted was Sam.
Sam was her rock. He had got her through her first crisis, her first two crises. She remembered how Sam had been there for her nine years ago and she knew she wouldn’t have managed without him. Who would be her rock now?
Darwin, 1999
Juliet carried the last of the shopping bags into the house. It was a humid, steamy day, typical Darwin dry-season weather, and she could feel the beads of sweat trickling down between her breasts. She unpacked the groceries, putting the things that had to go into the fridge away before deciding to leave the rest until after her swim.
She and Sam had moved directly from wintry Canberra to the tropics of the Northern Territory. It had taken her a while to acclimatise to the tropical Darwin weather but she’d finally learned to slow her pace to suit the climate. Things moved more slowly in the north. It was something the rest of the country always commented on and Juliet could understand why—it was impossible to maintain a hectic schedule in these hot, moist, stupefying temperatures.
They’d lived in Darwin for nearly three years now and because of the city’s transient population they were almost considered locals. Being part of the defence force had made the transition relatively easy. Defence force personnel were accustomed to people coming and going and were generally a sociable, welcoming group of people. They had settled easily into the city. Juliet had completed her Master’s in international law in Canberra and had gone on to complete a diploma in education as well. She was teaching at the law school at the university and through this network and the defence force they had a wide circle of acquaintances.
There was always something happening—a barbeque, a game of tennis, drinks for someone who was leaving or to welcome new arrivals—and Sam and Juliet had an active social life, but what Juliet really loved was when it was just her and Sam, together, their own little unit. They’d moved here as virtual newlyweds and Juliet still cherished the rare occasions when she had Sam to herself. It was an idyllic lifestyle and they existed in a state of euphoria and contentment. Only a few weeks ago, their little bubble had expanded when Juliet had got a positive result on a pregnancy test. She now had everything she’d ever wished for.
She finished putting away the groceries and went to find her bathers. It was an afternoon ritual for her to meet Sam at the swimming pool on the naval base for a late-afternoon swim and a game of tennis or a drink with whoever was around in the officers’ mess. The base was only a five-minute drive from their married quarters and the trip was worth every second in this hot and humid climate.
Juliet found her swimsuit and changed out of her sundress. As she stepped out of her underwear
she noticed some spots of blood. Just small spots, but surely that wasn’t normal. Beside her bed was the bible of expectant mothers and, slightly panicked, Juliet grabbed the book, searching for information. What did the book say about spotting? Was there anything in there to reassure her?
Chapter two said some women got spotting in the first month of pregnancy around about the time their period would normally be due. The advice was to rest and see if the bleeding stopped. But Juliet was eleven weeks pregnant. She flipped through the book, frantically searching for more. Chapter seven talked about bleeding in the last few weeks of pregnancy but there was nothing in between. She found nothing that set her mind at ease. Swimming was obviously out of the question if there was bleeding. Rest seemed to be the answer. She lay on her bed and continued scouring her book for any more information as she willed herself to stay calm and relaxed and prayed for the bleeding to stop.
It didn’t.
Calm and relaxed turned into stomach cramps. Juliet was almost too afraid to check but she had to know. She went to the bathroom. The bleeding was heavier and the blood was bright red. That wasn’t good.
She phoned Sam and he was by her side within ten minutes. Fifteen minutes after that he’d whisked her off to the emergency department at the Darwin Hospital and she was being taken into a cubicle for an ultrasound scan. Sam held her hand as the technician started the consult and stayed beside her when the technician went to call for the doctor. Juliet felt her pulse increase its pace with nervousness. She wanted the technician to show her an image of the baby on the screen, not fetch the doctor. She’d read enough of her pregnancy book to know she should be able to see her baby on the monitor. The only thing that kept her from panicking, that prevented her from screaming and yelling and demanding to know what was wrong, was Sam’s calming presence. She knew if he let go of her hand she would lose control. Somehow Sam knew that too and he held his position, comforting her with his solid, dependable presence. Maybe, just maybe, she thought, things would be okay as long as Sam was there.
Rescued by the Dreamy Doc / Navy Officer to Family Man Page 19
