Chapter 16

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Shawn

Mallory and I were led inside Dr. Thomas's office by the receptionist. He directed us to sit in the blue plush chairs that were opposite his huge wooden desk.

"Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea? Water?" he asked politely.

"No, thank you," I said.

"I'm fine, thanks," Mal said.

The receptionist left and I turned to Mal. She looked pretty calm, which certainly helped my nerves. I reached over and took her hand in mine. She gave me a weak smile.

The door opened and a tall young-ish doctor walked in. Mal and I both stood.

"Mallory, good to see you again," he said, resting a hand on her shoulder. "And this is?"

"My husband, Shawn," she said.

"Nice to meet you, Shawn," he said extending his hand to shake, which I did. "I'm Paul Thomas. Please sit."

If he knew who I was, he didn't show it. I appreciated his professionalism in this situation. We all sat down and I grabbed my wife's hand again. I wasn't sure who was comforting whom, though.

"I'm going to cut right to the chase because I know you are both stressed. No one ever wants to visit an oncologist."

He had that right. I'd never been so anxious in my life, but I had to try to keep it together for my wife.

He paused as opened a file on his desk.

"Your biopsy came back positive indicating that you do have inflammatory breast cancer."

Mallory gasped and squeezed my hand hard. I felt sick, but I sat up straighter and focused on the doctor for Mal's sake, willing myself not to vomit. Or punch the man across from me who just crushed my family's perfect life with this diagnosis. It wasn't his fault, of course, but I couldn't help but resent him for the blow he just delivered.

"I know this is not the news you were expecting, especially given your age. I was fairly shocked by the results myself. But, the good news is that you are here and you can start treatment."

"What is the treatment?" Mal asked, her voice trembling. I squeezed her hand tighter.

"We need to do tests to determine if the cancer has spread. I don't want to delay starting the first line of treatment, which is chemotherapy. Any other treatment will be determined by the stage of cancer. You're at a stage IIIB right now. If we find cancer cells in other areas outside your breasts, like your lymph nodes, you would be stage IIIC. If the cancer is found in other organs, you'd be stage IV."

"Out of how many stages?" I asked, dreading his answer.

"Four."

That was not the number I wanted to hear. She was fine a week ago. How the fuck could she go from fine to advanced cancer so quickly?

"When can I start the tests to determine if it spread?" Mal asked. I couldn't believe she was sitting next to me rationally asking questions when I felt like I was imploding.

"Tomorrow. I'd also like you to have a port implanted to make chemotherapy easier for you. We can try to get you in for that outpatient procedure tomorrow, too," he said.

I was still feeling literally sick and extremely confused. I had so many questions.

"How does a healthy 24 year old woman get cancer?" I asked, my voice shaking and more hostile than was fair to Dr. Thomas.

"It's very unusual. If we knew how, we'd be a lot better at preventing it. I know this is extremely shocking given Mallory's age. I'm very sorry."

"Will I have a mastectomy?" Mal asked.

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