Read Online IF I WERE YOUR WOMAN by LaConnie Taylor-Jones - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: LaConnie Taylor-Jones
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top-notch oncologist for two reasons. One, they’d attended medical school at Harvard together and two, Laney trusted Jason.
Ray glanced at the closed door for the umpteenth time. “What’s taking him so long?”
Laney reached over and calmly patted the top of Ray’s hand. “Relax, darling. It should only be a few more minutes.”
Ray nodded. At that moment he had four options: sit down, shut up, hold on, and pray.
“Mr. Baptiste?” A tall man walked inside toward Ray and extended his hand. “Hello, I’m Dr. Reynolds.”
Ray accepted the handshake. “Hey, doc. No need for formality. Call me Raphael.”
Jason Reynolds nodded, then glanced over at Laney. “Hi, kiddo. It’s good to see you.”
Laney smiled. “Thanks, Jason. Raphael and I really appreciate you squeezing us in on such short notice.”
“My pleasure.” Dr. Reynolds headed toward the leather swivel chair behind his desk and sat. He opened Ray’s medical chart and hooked his fingers in front of him. “Raphael, I’ve reviewed your surgery and pathology report. However, I’ve discovered another problem.”
Confused, Ray frowned. “I’m not following you here, doc.”
“Raphael,” Dr. Reynolds continued, “your lymph nodes are at least seven and a half centimeters.”
Ray ran two weary hands down his face and released a hard breath.
“Jason,” Laney said slowly, “After chemo, would you recommend Raphael undergo a RPLND?”
“Absolutely.” Jason paused briefly. “Raphael a RPLND—”
“Is the acronym for Retroperitoneal Lymph Node Dissection,” Ray interrupted. “It’s a surgical procedure recommended for patients like me with nonsemionma, the testicular cancer that can easily travel through the bloodstream to other vital organs such as the lungs, liver, bones and brain.”
Since his diagnosis, Ray had read everything he could get his hands on relative to testicular cancer. It was a complicated disease to say the least. If he could reach his own behind, he’d have kicked it for waiting as long as he did to seek treatment. Maybe if he had done so earlier, the disease would’ve been detected at a much early stage.
Dr. Reynolds offered an appreciative nod. “Aaah, you’re an informed patient. Being knowledgeable of the disease you’re fighting is definitely a plus.”
“Listen, doc,” Ray said, scooting to the edge of his seat. “What’s your recommendation for chemo?”
“Well, there are two options for you to consider.” Dr. Reynolds lifted up one finger at a time as he named them. “One is to go with three cycles of BEP or four cycles without the Bleomycin. I’d like to get started as soon as possible.” He paused and flipped through Ray’s medical chart. “You don’t have any children, correct?”
“Correct.” Ray had never considered fatherhood. It was a responsibility that never came up on his radar screen, and he always used protection with the women he’d slept with. “Why do you ask?”
“Before you begin chemo, I’d like for you to make an appointment with the sperm bank.”
Ray clasped both hands between his legs. He’d psyched himself up for chemo, but hadn’t expected to undergo the RPLND, too. And he knew the appointment to the sperm bank was necessary. One of the side effects of chemo in men was infertility. However, what he had to do at the sperm bank wasn’t something he looked forward to. “Uh, listen, doc. How many visits will I need to make?”
“At least three,” Dr. Reynolds advised.
“ Daaayuuum ,” Ray muttered. A few moments passed, and he turned to face Laney, searching her eyes for confirmation.
Laney nodded slightly, an indication that his telepathic request had been received. “Jason, will you excuse us for a moment?”
“Absolutely.” Dr. Reynolds pushed his chair away from the desk and stood. “Raphael is my only patient today, so take all the time you need.”
Ray watched as Dr. Reynolds left and quietly closed the door. He settled back in
Ray glanced at the closed door for the umpteenth time. “What’s taking him so long?”
Laney reached over and calmly patted the top of Ray’s hand. “Relax, darling. It should only be a few more minutes.”
Ray nodded. At that moment he had four options: sit down, shut up, hold on, and pray.
“Mr. Baptiste?” A tall man walked inside toward Ray and extended his hand. “Hello, I’m Dr. Reynolds.”
Ray accepted the handshake. “Hey, doc. No need for formality. Call me Raphael.”
Jason Reynolds nodded, then glanced over at Laney. “Hi, kiddo. It’s good to see you.”
Laney smiled. “Thanks, Jason. Raphael and I really appreciate you squeezing us in on such short notice.”
“My pleasure.” Dr. Reynolds headed toward the leather swivel chair behind his desk and sat. He opened Ray’s medical chart and hooked his fingers in front of him. “Raphael, I’ve reviewed your surgery and pathology report. However, I’ve discovered another problem.”
Confused, Ray frowned. “I’m not following you here, doc.”
“Raphael,” Dr. Reynolds continued, “your lymph nodes are at least seven and a half centimeters.”
Ray ran two weary hands down his face and released a hard breath.
“Jason,” Laney said slowly, “After chemo, would you recommend Raphael undergo a RPLND?”
“Absolutely.” Jason paused briefly. “Raphael a RPLND—”
“Is the acronym for Retroperitoneal Lymph Node Dissection,” Ray interrupted. “It’s a surgical procedure recommended for patients like me with nonsemionma, the testicular cancer that can easily travel through the bloodstream to other vital organs such as the lungs, liver, bones and brain.”
Since his diagnosis, Ray had read everything he could get his hands on relative to testicular cancer. It was a complicated disease to say the least. If he could reach his own behind, he’d have kicked it for waiting as long as he did to seek treatment. Maybe if he had done so earlier, the disease would’ve been detected at a much early stage.
Dr. Reynolds offered an appreciative nod. “Aaah, you’re an informed patient. Being knowledgeable of the disease you’re fighting is definitely a plus.”
“Listen, doc,” Ray said, scooting to the edge of his seat. “What’s your recommendation for chemo?”
“Well, there are two options for you to consider.” Dr. Reynolds lifted up one finger at a time as he named them. “One is to go with three cycles of BEP or four cycles without the Bleomycin. I’d like to get started as soon as possible.” He paused and flipped through Ray’s medical chart. “You don’t have any children, correct?”
“Correct.” Ray had never considered fatherhood. It was a responsibility that never came up on his radar screen, and he always used protection with the women he’d slept with. “Why do you ask?”
“Before you begin chemo, I’d like for you to make an appointment with the sperm bank.”
Ray clasped both hands between his legs. He’d psyched himself up for chemo, but hadn’t expected to undergo the RPLND, too. And he knew the appointment to the sperm bank was necessary. One of the side effects of chemo in men was infertility. However, what he had to do at the sperm bank wasn’t something he looked forward to. “Uh, listen, doc. How many visits will I need to make?”
“At least three,” Dr. Reynolds advised.
“ Daaayuuum ,” Ray muttered. A few moments passed, and he turned to face Laney, searching her eyes for confirmation.
Laney nodded slightly, an indication that his telepathic request had been received. “Jason, will you excuse us for a moment?”
“Absolutely.” Dr. Reynolds pushed his chair away from the desk and stood. “Raphael is my only patient today, so take all the time you need.”
Ray watched as Dr. Reynolds left and quietly closed the door. He settled back in
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