Page 129 - In Five Years

“I thought it was six,” I say. I’ve done extensive research. I’ve barely left
Google. Filing statistics. Researching these procedures, recovery times, added
benefits of taking out both ovaries instead of one.
“It could be,” he says. “It depends on what we find when we get in there. A

full hysterectomy is usually six, but because we’re also removing the fallopian
tubes we may need more time.”

“Are you performing an omentectomy today?” I ask.
Dr. Shaw looks at me with a mixture of respect and surprise. “We’re going to
do a biopsy of the omentum for staging. But we will not be removing it today.”
“I read that a complete removal increases survival odds.”

To his credit, Dr. Shaw does not look away. He does not clear his throat and
look to Jill or Bella. Instead, he says, “It’s really a case by case.”

My stomach turns. I look to Jill, who is up by Bella’s head, smoothing her
cap-covered hair.
A memory. Bella. Age eleven. Crawling up into my bed from the trundle
because she’d had a nightmare. It was snowing and I couldn’t find you.

“Where were you?”
“Alaska, maybe.”

“Why Alaska?”
“I don’t know.”
But I did. Her mother had been there for a month. Some kind of two-and-a-

half-week cruise followed by a specialized spa.
“Well, I’m right here,” I said. “You’ll always be able to find me, even in
snow.”

How dare Jill show up. How dare she claim ownership and offer comfort
now. It’s too late. It has been too late for over twenty years. I know I’d hate
Bella’s parents even more if they didn’t show today, but I still want them gone.

They don’t get the place by her side, especially not now.
Just then Aaron walks through the door. He’s holding one of those carry trays
full of Starbucks cups and starts handing them out.

“None for you,” Dr. Shaw says, pointing to Bella.
She laughs. “That’s the worst part about this. No coffee.”
Dr. Shaw smiles. “I’ll see you in there. You’re in great hands.”

“I know,” she says.