“No, Mom, Blair can stay. I want her here,” Em says, lacing her fingers through mine and squeezing my hand ever so slightly. I can feel a small tremble and I’m officially panicking at Dr. King’s suggestion that I leave.
“Blair is practically family, she can be present if that’s okay with you,” Pam answers quietly as we all take our seats.
“Very well,” she says as she moves papers around her cluttered desk. I’m sure she’s stalling and it only ramps my nerves up further. Emily feels it too; her hand is starting to feel clammy against mine.
“We have examined Emily’s blood results,” she begins, and I can see from the corner of my eye that Pam’s holding her breath. “Emily’s white blood cell count is not what we would expect it to be for a fit and healthy fifteen-year-old girl. Her neutrophils, which potentially indicate how her immune system is functioning, are extremely low. We would expect to see them at around seven, and currently Emily’s are at point zero six.” She pauses for a second as she removes the stethoscope she has draped around her neck and places it carefully on the desk in front of her.
“Okay…what does that mean?” Pam asks in a shaky voice as she moves her arm and rests her hand on Em’s knee. Emily is steadily increasing the pressure of her grip on my hand and I’m squeezing back just as hard. There is a strange undercurrent running through the room, and I’m sure something bad is about to happen.
“Mrs. Wilson, Emily…from what we can see from the blood results, we are concluding,” she gestures to the other doctors in the room, “that Emily has Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia.”
The exhale Pam lets out echoes throughout the deathly silent room. I’m sitting frozen in fear at the words I’ve just heard spoken. My face starts to heat up and my eyes prickle as I feel the tears begin.
“Leukemia, as in cancer, Mom? Is that what they’re saying? They think I have cancer?” The words come out in a rush and are immediately followed by a terrified sob as Em’s body folds in on itself. She still hasn’t let go of my hand as her mom falls to her knees from her chair and draws her into a hug, shushing her. I look back to Dr. King whose face looks devoid of any emotion. How can she look like that? I don’t understand—how can she deliver the worst possible news anyone can be told and not break down?
“Mrs. Wilson, you’ll have lots of questions that I’m sure you will want answered but I’m going to give you these pamphlets that explain everything you need to know about the disease. I’m sure whatever I tell you at the moment will be forgotten in the midst of high-running emotions. I’m going to call for an ambulance to transport you to the Teenage Oncology Unit at UCLA Health Center. I think it’s vital that we order more tests on Emily right away to confirm the diagnosis.”
Emily hasn’t looked up from her mom’s shoulder and her sobs feel like a sledgehammer to my heart, each one shattering it into more and more pieces.
“Confirm the diagnosis…so, are you saying you might be incorrect, it might not be cancer? You only did one blood draw, it could be wrong, couldn’t it?” Pam’s voice is laced with desperation, her eyes wide and glazed over with tears.
“I can’t say at this stage that it is categorically leukemia, but I can tell you that we are fairly positive that this is what we are dealing with.” She leans forward and passes a handful of tissues over the desk. “We are going to step outside for a moment and give you a few minutes to let the news settle, then we can discuss the next steps.” They rise in unison and one by one the doctors leave the room. I find myself wanting to scream, punch, and tear this whole horrid room apart. This isn’t right. She can’t have cancer—we’re only fifteen.
Emily’s sobs stop as she draws back from her mom and looks at her. Tears have stained her cheeks and mascara has smudged a dirty grey line under her red-rimmed eyes.
“Momma, am I going to die?” She sounds completely broken. I’m not sure if it’s because she actually is, or because I can hear the blood rushing in my ears. I suddenly feel overwhelmingly dizzy. I imagine this is what an out-of-body experience is like. I don’t feel like myself, I feel as though I’m watching this unfold from somewhere else. The sound of heartbreak is clear in Pam’s voice as she tries to comfort Emily, but I can’t help noticing that she didn’t say no.
My body shudders as a chill races down my spine; every nerve ending feels like it’s on fire. Surely this can’t be happening.
“Don’t think like that, Em, You’ll be fine,” I tell her, although there’s not much conviction in my voice. “Whatever happens, it will all work out okay, you’ll see.”
She looks at me with the most petrified expression I’ve ever seen, I’m sure it will haunt me for the rest of my life. “You promise?”
I stiffen at her question; I’m not in the habit of making promises that I can’t keep. I cross my fingers and silently pray to myself that my next words will turn out to be the truth. “Yes Em.” I tell her. “I promise.”
Present