“Let me run through the risks again now I have a clearer vision of what needs to be done.”
I nod, but I almost don’t want to hear them. I know it’s his job to make sure I’m informed, but this is hard enough making this decision without thinking about the risks.
“There is a three percent chance I can remove all of the tumour with no adverse effects.”
“So there is a ninety-seven percent chance of me dying?” I reply, my voice trembling.
“No.” He pauses and considers his response. “There is a ninety-seven percent chance of something going wrong. Paralysis, vegetation, memory loss, behavioural problems, brain damage…”
Wow. I sit there, still, not moving a muscle. I’d almost just rather die.
“Then on top of all that, if we can’t get it all, the tumour will grow back. The chance of you not surviving the surgery sits at about eighty-five percent.”
“So why do this, then?” I whisper. “Why even try?” Tears sting my eyes.
Cade reaches across and holds my hand.
“Because without it, you will die. It’s up to you, Erin. I understand it’s a big decision, but a three percent chance is better than no chance, isn’t it?”
“So, when would we do this?” I ask, my voice small. I want to be brave, but I can’t pretend. Not in front of him. I glance at Cade. He smiles, his forehead creased with worry.
“As soon as possible. I’ve booked you in for Friday, but you’ll need to let me know by tomorrow morning if you decide you want to go ahead.”
“This Friday?” I squeak. That’s two days away. Two days. I was expecting at least a week to come to terms with it.
“We can’t waste time,” he explains. “I needed to be in there, removing this, yesterday. Every day we wait, it gets more and more complicated and the risks increase.”
I nod and then rub my forehead, feeling yet another headache coming on. I don’t have much of a choice. The risk of dying scares me less than the other risks, because who wants to live like that?
You think I would feel more organised, but I don’t. This is different because it’s happening so soon. It’s not six months from now, or even a week. It’s two days. It’s not something I can tell myself I have time to prepare for, or something I can bluff my way through. I feel all over the place. I’m seconds away from falling apart, because nothing prepares you for something like this.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Erin
My family’s plane arrives just after five Thursday morning because Dad booked the flights before they even had the results back, just in case. Now I know where the planner in me comes from.
I offer to pick them up from the airport, but they insist on catching a cab, which I’m not entirely unhappy about. They arrive at the hotel just before six, where I’m anxiously waiting in the downstairs lobby for them.
I see Calli first and smile. She looks the same, her long blond hair tied back in a messy bun. She spots me and races over, embracing me in a hug so hard she lifts me off the ground. I laugh and order her to put me down. Mum and Dad stand behind her. They’re both smiling, but behind their happy façade, all I can see are sadness and worry.
“Hey,” I say with a smile. I give them a hug and they both wrap their arms around me. I close my eyes and snuggle into the comfort of my parents’ arms. It’s like I’m five years old again and I’ve grazed my knee. The only difference is, this can’t be fixed with a bandage.
“Breakfast is just starting in the restaurant, if you guys are hungry.” I need to keep myself distracted before I fall in a heap. “Or do you want to go and get settled in first?”
They’re staying at a hotel just down the street. I tried to get them rooms here, but because of the international comic convention that’s on, the hotel is fully booked. Why anyone would want to go to a comic convention, I don’t know.
“We didn’t come all this way to spend it in our room,” Dad grumbles.
I grin, because I love his grumbling. It’s comforting, like a big bowl of chicken soup.
He glances over at reception. “Do you think we can leave our bags over there?”
“Andrew!” Mum gasps. “You can’t ask a hotel you’re not staying at to mind your luggage.”
“I don’t see why not,” he argues. “It’s not like we didn’t want to stay here in the first place, is it? It’s not our fault they’re all booked out.”
Mum rolls her eyes. “Whatever. Just don’t drag me into it.”