FAITH POV: I'm downstairs folding laundry when Tim stumbles down the stairs. He mumbles a few cuss words as he struggles to make it through the kitchen.
"Hungover?" I say, as he begins to look shameful.
"I'm sorry..." He says, rubbing his head.
"You've slept through most of the day. The kids should be getting home from school any minute now." I say.
"What?" He says sounding surprised. "What time is it?" He panics.
"Three thirty." I say. He punches the counter.
"Fuck!" He screams, then exhales heavily.
"What?" I ask, shocked at his reaction.
"I just missed an important appointment." He says.
"I know. Your mom called saying that you were supposed to go in at ten." I reply.
"Why didn't you wake me up?" He says, sounding frustrated.
"Because she called me at one. It was a little late by then." I say, trying to avoid conflict. "I went ahead and rescheduled you for tonight at five." I say. He sighs of relief.
"Thank you." He says, coming over and leaning against the washer. "So what are you up to?"
"Just laundry." I say, hoping he doesn't try to pursue me again. I wonder what she looked like. God, I need to stop thinking about that...
"Can you come with me tonight?" He asks shyly.
"Sure. If you really want me to." I answer.
"This is just scary stuff, you know?"
"It's going to be fine." I say. "I promise."
"Alright..." He says, taking a deep breath. "Well, you want to get ready to leave soon?"
"Sure. Once the kids get home we can go ahead and head out." I say. He nods and goes upstairs to get changed. He might be the most difficult man in history, but I do really love him. Call me love-blind.
The girls have gotten home and settled in as Tim and I head off to the doctors. Betty has come over to watch the girls while we go.
"So what do you think they're going to do?" He asks, rubbing his palms together.
"Rip out your brains." I say sarcastically. He's so nervous about nothing.
"What if they find something?" He says seriously.
"Then we will go from there." I answer. He nods and bites his lip. He's had to fast for over six hours, so he's definitely not up for dealing with anything unnecessary. We pull into the hospital parking lot, and I can feel his anxiety go through the roof. "Honey, calm down. It's just a check up." I say. He nods.
"With dad.... I just-" he starts, then looks at me with sad eyes. I'm getting a heavy feeling that something could be wrong.
We walk in and head up to the cancer treatment floor. We stand in silence in the elevator, joined by a cancer patient. She looks mid eighty's...
Tim's hand is clamped tightly onto mine. His knuckles are turning white by the time we finish checking in.
"Breathe." I whisper to him.
"I'm trying." He says shakily. I feel a tight pain in my chest when I look over at him. He's tapping his foot on the floor and tapping the folder of papers in his lap with his free hand. The other is still clenching onto my hand.
"Samuel Timothy McGraw?" The doctor calls. He's a middle aged man, probably around ten years older than us. His grey hairs mix with his thick black.
"You ready?" I say. Tim nods, completely pale. We stand up and the doctor smiles at us.
"Come on back!" He says kindly, walking us back to one of the exam rooms. He gives Tim a hospital gown to put on for testing. Tim puts it on before the doctor comes back in the room with his charts. "Alright Tim, so you're just coming in for your regular scans to make sure you're all clear?"
"Yessir." Tim says, sounding extraordinarily nervous.
"You have any symptoms that are out of the usual lately?" The doctor asks.
"Headaches, nausea, and a little bit of memory loss." He says carefully, looking at the doctors notes.
"What's the extent of these symptoms?" The doctor asks.
"I get migraines that keep me from leaving bed, I puke almost every morning, and I keep forgetting the lyrics to my songs that I've sang for years." He says. I haven't heard any of this before.
"How long have you been experiencing these symptoms?"
"About six months." Tim says. Why didn't he talk to me about this?
"Alright Tim. Well if you'll follow me to the MRI room, we'll start scanning." The doctor says, a bit disheartened. Tim looks at me with frightened eyes. They both walk out, and I follow, seeing the fear in Tim's stance. I just want to wrap him up and tell him everything will be okay. Tim goes in and sits in the massive machine that begins to scan his head. I sit in the room with the doctor that show the pictures as they appear. Everything seems normal till the doctor receives a sideways view of his head.
"What's that?" I ask, pointing to a large mass. The doctor shakes his head.
"I have no idea..." He says, giving me a look that can only mean one thing.
"Alright Tim, we are going to head over and get you an CT scan, okay?" The doctor says. A nurse goes in and helps him out of the MRI machine while the doctor makes a call.
"Hi, can I get a neuro-oncologist down in the CT room? I have something I need a second look on." He says quietly, but I can still hear every word. He hangs up the phone and stands up, taking a deep breath.
"What's wrong?" I ask seriously.
"I don't want to freak you out, but it's looking like Tim has a massive tumor in his head. We aren't sure yet..." He says. My heart stops while my knees feel weak. "We are going to talk to the neuro-oncologist first and do a CT scan to make sure."
"Is it benign?" I hope for the best.
"I'm not so sure yet." He says.
We walk down in silence to the CT room down the hall. Tim goes in the testing room, while yet again, the doctor and I sit in the observation room. The doctor is already running scans by the time the neuro-oncologist shows up.
"Alrighty," he says. "what am I looking at?"
"Well, Mrs McGraw, this is Dr. Kendricks. He's the neuro-oncologist at the hospital. He's the best out there." The doctor says. Kendricks smiles. He looks like a mid-forty year old man. He has brown hair, blue eyes, and tan skin. He looks like a model.
"Nice to meet you." He says, flashing a bright white smile at me. I nod as he looks back to the scans. "Holy-" He starts, then covering his mouth so he doesn't say more to freak me out.
"Is that... you know?" The doctor says.
"Yeah. Stage three, if not four." He sighs, giving me a sad look.
"What's going on?" I ask, hoping that my head is not automatically jumping to a worse case scenario.
"Okay, all done." The doctor says over the mic, ignoring me. Kendricks doesn't, however.
"You'll find out when we head back to the room." He says kindly. I nod and follow them back to the room, meeting Tim out in the hallway.
We walk back into the exam room and sit down. Tim has now changed back into normal clothes. Tim is clamping onto my hand like he can't let go.
"Alright, so after we did each test, we pretty much confirmed that you have a tumor in your head." Kendricks says. Tim starts to shake.
"Can we fix it? Aren't their surgeries and drugs?" He says.
"Tim, you are far enough where even chemo may not work." Kendricks says.
"It's cancerous?" I ask, sounding alarmed. My heart beats through my chest when the doctor nods. I open my mouth, trying to spit out another question, but nothing comes out. Tears are emerging, but I know I have to put on a strong face to keep Tim calm. He shouldn't have to deal with me and this news all at once. I look over into his eyes, which are staring blankly at the wall across from him. His hand is still tightly wrapped around mine, flinching slightly.
"A surgery could work, but it's incredibly dangerous. The tumor is so large that it's pretty much made itself part of your brain. As the cancer progresses, it gets larger, causing your brain to be suppressed. That's why you are getting the migraines and memory issues." Kendricks says. Tim nods and bites the inside of his cheek.
"How long?" Tim asks. This is the first instance that Tim has looked at Kendricks since we got in the room. He looks as white as a sheet.
"There's no sure way to know, yet. We will have to see at what speed the tumor is growing."
"What is the maximum amount of time?" He rephrases. Kendricks sighs and gives Tim a sad looks.
"Nine months to a year... if that." I feel like I've been punched in the stomach as I think about how long we have. Tim looks down at his hands now.
"How long till I'm crazy?" Tim asks.
"On a best case scenario timeline, about six months. Maybe seven if you're lucky." Kendricks says, being honest with Tim. Tim looks over to me, causing me to crumble. He looks horrified.
"I-I..." I start, trying to tell Tim that everything is going to be alright, but the words won't come out. I'm shaking like crazy.
"I'm so sorry, Tim." Kendricks says. Tim nods mindlessly. I wonder what is going through his mind right now. "I'll schedule you a follow up so we can decide where to go from this point."
"Alright." Tim says, standing up to face me. "You ready to go?" He says quietly. I nod, my mouth still open. I stand up, and Tim wraps his arm tightly around my waist, as we walk out of the room and out to the elevators. I can feel his hand shaking on my hip. We just need to get to the car, then we can unfold without making a scene.
We get off the elevator in the same stiff silence, and walk out to the car. We both get in, shut the door, and take a deep breath. Tim puts the keys in the ignition, then leans back in his seat.
"I..." He says, staring straight ahead with his mouth hanging open. "my god..." he says, covering his mouth with his hand. Tears are already flowing from the corners of my eyes by the time Tim looks over at me. He puts his hand on my knee. "Baby..."
"What are we going to do?" I say, finally breaking. He shrugs his shoulders, tears beginning to form in his eyes too.
"I didn't think I was sick..." He says with his voice crackling. He looks at me with his sad brown eyes.
"It's going to be okay." I say. "We'll figure something out. I promise." I continue as Tim breaks down.
"What about the kids? What about you? I can't just..." He stops, tears running from his eyes. One of his hands is gripped tightly to the steering wheel, noticeably shaking. "I love you so damn much." He finishes. Somehow the last part seemed to calm himself down.
"I love you too." I say, my nose sniffles. He puts the car in drive and heads home without saying another word.