“You mentioned dialysis or a transplant,” Canon says, his voice low and level. “What is your recommendation?”
I turn in Canon’s arms, resting my back against the wide, warm chest, my gaze intent on Dr. Okafor.
“Well, she’s on the prednisone,” Dr. Okafor says. “That and other drugs will help manage some of the symptoms. We can put you on dialysis. Some are on it for life, but I think our best option is a preemptive kidney transplant.”
“What’s that?” I ask.
“As I’m sure you know, with dialysis,” Dr. Okafor says, “a machine filters out the toxins, cleans your blood because your kidneys can no longer effectively do that. You could go that route, but it would be for the rest of your life.”
“No.” I shake my head, adamant. “I’m an actor. A performer. I need to be active. I don’t want that.”
“I figured you would feel that way.” Dr. Okafor gives me an assessing glance. “The preemptive transplant gets you a new kidney.”
“Aren’t there long waiting lists?” Canon asks, his deep voice a comforting rumble at my back.
“There are for deceased-donor organs,” Dr. Okafor agrees. “But we also start hunting everywhere for a living donor. Friends, family, your community.”
“A living donor?” Canon asks, sounding like he’s pouncing on it. “How do you determine if someone is a match?”
“That is a long, involved process,” Dr. Okafor says. “We start with blood type and go from there in a series of tests to determine compatibility.”
“We have a huge cast and crew,” Canon says. “I can put out the call for anyone who might want to test to see if they’re a match. Can you test me today?”
“Canon.” I look over my shoulder, staring at him. “You can’t just . . . give me a kidney. And you can’t volunteer the cast and crew.”
“I can do whatever the hell I want if my kidney is a match. And I would never pressure any of them, but when they hear you need a kidney, a lot of them will want to at least check.”
“He’s right,” Dr. Okafor says. “We check everywhere and anyone who is willing. Our best shot, though, would be a family member. Especially a sibling. A brother or a sister.”
A sister.
I used to have one of those.
But not anymore.
And all of a sudden, it may be my kidneys that are failing, but it’s my heart that hurts. Aches that with my life on the line, I can’t wrap my mind around asking Terry for anything, much less an organ. Why would she give it? Why would I take anything from her? I know I’ll have to set our differences aside to ask, but God, I don’t want to.
“This is good.” Canon starts pacing and tugs at his bottom lip the way he does when a scene isn’t going the way he thinks it should. He’s in full director mode. “Dr. Okafor, you start with the transplant list. I’ll get the word out to the cast and crew and my network, which is pretty broad. Neevah, baby, I know you don’t want to, but you’ll have to ask your mom and sister.”
“Um, thank you for the marching orders,” Dr. Okafor says dryly. “But I’ll take it from here, general.”
Unbelievably, in the midst of the worst news I’ve ever received, I snort. Chuckle. Snuckle.
Canon looks at me, his eyes softening with the tiniest glint of humor, and I know he’s thinking the same thing—of our first conversation, a chilly autumn night on a New York sidewalk. In the relatively brief time we’ve been together, we’ve made our own history. I don’t have the aerial view to see where and how it ends, but right now we are in the thick of it, and it feels good. Somehow, even in the muck of my life right now, having him still feels good.
“Sorry for his bossiness,” I say, walking over to sit on the bed because that bone-deep exhaustion is no joke. “He’s a director.”
“He’s right. We’ll have to take swift action,” Dr. Okafor says. “We already started the prednisone, which should help some, but you’ve got a long road ahead. We have other drugs that can help do the work your kidneys aren’t right now. If that doesn’t work, we may have to do dialysis until we find a donor.”
“Wait. I can’t get on dialysis.” I arrow a look between the three doctors. “I have another month left on my movie.”
“The hell you do,” Canon says harshly. “You’re not coming back on my set until she says so.”
“Canon.” I gulp back tears. “You know the whole production shuts down if I’m not there.”
“You think I give a damn about that?” His scowl deepens. “This is your life we’re talking about, Neev. Nothing . . . there’s nothing more important than that.”
“I don’t think Galaxy Studios will agree.”