Surgeon Boss, Surprise Dad

He should have told her the moment he’d started having the blurred vision, the pinpricks in his fingers, the tiredness. He should have told her the night her grandfather had died. Before then.

Instead, he’d pretended that everything was fine, not letting on that he was having symptoms of any kind.

He’d thought he was saving her pain by delaying, but the more time that went by the more he wondered if he wasn’t making things more difficult by keeping his symptoms, his fears to himself.

He should tell her now.

He opened his mouth, intent on telling her the truth. “I’m just busy.”

That wasn’t what he’d meant to say. Not even close.

“OK.” She didn’t sound convinced. He didn’t blame her. His unusual behavior confused her. Hell, he was pretty confused himself.

Silence buzzed over the line, acutely broadcasting that change was eminent whether he wanted it or not.

“I looked for you after I finished my shift. They told me you’d already left for t

he day. Are you coming over? I could order take-out.” Her voice held hopefulness.

“Not tonight,” he managed to say. What if he had another episode of pain? How would he explain it to her? “I had a long day and am tired.” True. He seemed to always be tired these days. “I’m flying to Alpharetta in the morning and want an early start.”

A lame excuse and they both knew it. An avid pilot of his own Cessna, a scheduled trip had never stopped him in the past. And why had he lied to her? He was going to Jackson, to see the specialist, to find out the truth behind his symptoms.

Which was why he’d lied to her.

He didn’t want her to worry, didn’t want her sympathy, didn’t want her to possibly be tied to another invalid. Liz deserved a life.

“If you’re sure, then…” She hesitated, making him want to tell her how much he needed her, just to have her wrap her arms around him and tell him everything would be OK, that she’d be there for him no matter what those damned tests showed.

The crux of it was Liz would be there for him in a heartbeat. If he let her. But he wanted better than that for her. Lots better.

Be strong, man. You’ve got to see this through, find out for sure what’s going on before involving Liz.

“Sorry, Liz, but I’ve got to go.” He hung up before she could say anything more.

But mostly before he could say anything more.

The next morning Adam sat in a Jackson Neurology Clinic exam room, staring at a framed Norman Rockwell print that hung on the wall opposite him.

Too bad real life wasn’t as idyllic as Norman Rockwell presented it.

When the neurologist walked into the room, Adam knew by the expression Dr Winters wore that the test results hadn’t been good.

By now he should be used to that expression. Hadn’t every bit of news he’d gotten thus far been bad?

The neurologist pulled up his stool, glanced down at the piece of paper containing words that would forever change Adam’s life, and then glanced up. “There’s no good way to put this and we pretty much already knew what the conclusions of the tests were going to be, so I’m going to be blunt. You have MS.”

Adam’s ears roared. His blood boiled. His skin crawled. He gritted his teeth. He clenched his tingling fingers. Still his body threatened to explode from the impact of those words.

He had MS.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. The analysis of the cerebral spinal fluid shows protein, cells, and increased antibody production. Antibodies containing oglioclonal bands. Unfortunately, that in combination with the demyelization revealed on the MRI are conclusive even if the evoked potential testing hadn’t been positive.”

There was that damned expression again.

“But they were positive, too, weren’t they?” Because all his tests pointed in one direction. A direction he didn’t want to go, but had no choice but to take.