Before I Die

“While it’s not life or death, I wouldn’t recommend waiting too long. The reason why you’ve been getting headaches and feeling dizzy is because of the size and location of the mass. I would also recommend you not drive anywhere as you are susceptible to seizures as well.”

Nevaeh nods, resigned. “Okay, I guess we might as well schedule the surgery for as soon as possible.”

“Nevaeh,” Dr. Bromfield says softly, hearing the worry she isn’t voicing. “You have a higher chance of dying from the Meningioma growing than you do from the surgery itself. As with any surgery, there are risks, and we will go over them beforehand, but they are a small risk in comparison to what you’re facing if you don’t have the surgery.”

“How long will I remain in the hospital afterward?”

“We’ll get you admitted the day before the surgery, run your bloodwork, and get you prepped. You’ll be put to sleep while I perform a craniotomy. I can’t tell you how long it will take, as that will depend on how everything goes, but I can tell you the process and what to expect. We’ll shave a small area, then I’ll go in and remove the tumor, and then stitch you back up. I’ll have the mass sent to the lab and we should have the results back within a few hours. If all goes well, I’ll get it all and you’ll never have to go through this again. You will remain in the hospital for a few days and then on bed rest at home for a few weeks. We’ll know more once you wake up, though.”

Nevaeh sighs and glances over at me, her eyes glossy with unshed tears. I squeeze her hand to silently let her know I’m here and not going anywhere. I’ll be by her side every step of the way. “How soon can we schedule?”

Dr. Bromfield clicks a few times on his laptop. “I have four weeks from today available.”

After confirming the appointment and getting the paperwork Nevaeh will need to bring to the hospital, we say our goodbyes and head out. Nevaeh is quiet during the drive home. I ask her if she’s hungry, but she shakes her head. We’re halfway to the house when my mom calls and asks if we can come by and see her and my dad. She tells us she would love to make a special dinner to celebrate our marriage. When I tell her now isn’t really a good time, Nevaeh cuts in and tells her we would love to come by.

“I don’t want to hide away and mope,” she says when I hang up. “I only have four weeks.”

“It’s only four weeks until the surgery. You heard Dr. Bromfield. He’s performed this procedure hundreds of times. You have your whole life ahead of you.”

“Things go wrong, Ethan. I’ve read up on the risks. I could bleed out, not wake up, wake up and be a different person, or have no memory, or no motor skills.”

“No more Google for you,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood. It doesn’t work, though, because she huffs and goes quiet. I know she’s worried, and will be until she’s through the surgery and recovering, but I’m not about to let her dwell on this for the next month.

“How about tonight, after we get home, we take a look at your list and see what else you have on it?” I hate that fucking list, but Nevaeh clings to it like it’s her lifeline, so if it will help lift her spirits and keep her mind occupied the next few weeks, then I’m all about it.

“Eh.” She shrugs noncommittedly while staring out the window. “Maybe.”

Unable to take another moment of her pushing me away, I swerve my car onto the shoulder of the road. Her head whips around in shock to see what I’m doing. I take note of where we are and pull into a corner parking spot that overlooks the beach, and put the car in park. It’s late afternoon on a weekday, so it’s empty.

“What are you doing?”

I press the button on the side of my seat until I have plenty of room in front of me, and then I pull Nevaeh into my lap. She’s wearing a black flowy skirt with a white lacy top. Since she removed her heels when we got in the car, she’s barefoot. Her skirt bunches up, and her thick, creamy thighs settle around me.

“Ethan,” she breathes, confused.

“I’m not going to let you shut me out.” I grab her chin with my finger and thumb and look her in the eyes. “This is your life, Nevaeh. Anything can happen at any time. We can get into a car accident and die. I can have a heart attack. You could be eating something and choke and your life is over.”