Starlet's Web - #1 {Exclusive Read}

Starlet's Web - May ~ GROWTH ~

~ GROWTH ~

Dr. Jack looked like he hadn’t slept for days.

“Hi Jack. This is my boyfriend, Manuel. You met him the first day.”

“Thanks for not calling the police.”

“Yeah, that was over-the-top. I was so angry, so sad,” Manuel explained.

“I felt the same way. It’s nice to meet you. Please, sit down.”

Dr. Jack reviewed his notes, the lab results, and his computer. I noticed how very good-looking he was. There was something gorgeous about him mixed with the goofiness of an intellectual. He had both confidence and insecurity at the same time. He was not a macho forty-something-year-old like Carlos or Dad. He knew who he was, certainly, but didn’t know he was handsome. Perhaps he didn’t care.

He sat motionless with his jaw clenched, sizing up my emotional strength. After a long pause, he asked, “Would you like me to get right to the point? Should I talk to your dad first? Maybe get him on the speaker phone?”

I honestly answered, “Please tell me straight. I can handle it now.”

He inhaled. I imagined the sadness he expressed stemmed from having children of his own and not wanting to tell his son the news without being present to help him deal with it.

He explained, “So, you do have a large pituitary tumor, over one centimeter, a macroadenoma. I don’t know what kind of damage the tumor is causing, but your hormones are functioning again. Given that your menses resumed in less than just 2 months from when you stopped taking x-nib, I want to remove the tumor as soon as possible. I’m afraid that if we don’t remove it now, then it will cause permanent damage as your hormones continue to function.”

Manuel instantly shifted his weight. His eyes were intense. “Isn’t the pituitary gland in the middle of the brain and really small? How would you remove a tumor on it? It must be the size of what, a pea?” Manuel asked.

“We go in through the back of the inside of the nose and through the sphenoid bone. It’s called endoscopic transsphenoidal surgery and adenoma removal.” He wrote it down and slid the paper to us. “I would like to biopsy the tumor to make sure it’s benign. I’d like a neurosurgeon at Stanford Hospital to do the surgery, Dr. David Chang. I’d like to do it next week. I’m confident in the surgeon, but there are always risks. I want to act quickly because the autopsy of CSY2 showed severely damaged tissues of the pituitary gland. Right now, David knows that your tumor is large enough for a successful extraction without damaging the gland.”

I was not freaked out at all, finally. “Yeah, let’s get it out of my brain as soon as possible. Please send me info to read, to be prepared. Schedule everything for next week.”

“Okay. Tell your parents. I’ll email everything to you and your dad. I still see your mom on Sunday. I’ll discuss everything with her. Okay. I better get busy.”

Dr. Jack smiled and stood up to tell us the meeting was over. I shook his hand. I gently pulled Manuel off his chair. He obviously needed more convincing than I did.

“Thanks for taking care of me, Dr. Jack. Tell your son I said, ‘Hi and thanks. Thanks a lot for helping me through this.’ Your son is really nice.”

We left the lab in silence, holding hands. Manuel hugged me before we drove off on his scooter. It was nice not having to talk. He stopped on the way home at my favorite bakery.

He explained, “You deserve another treat today. I know you want to run the stairs because of the donut, but you should have a pretzel croissant given that you’re having your period and I know girls like treats when they are having their period. I still want to get married, but we should talk about it when you heal.”

“True. I want to eat forbidden foods and kiss you all the time. I don’t want to have to plan a wedding with brain surgery stress. Besides, I saw your parents’ expressions. They’re not going to support us getting married.”

“No, they’re not,” he agreed. “But we need to live, enjoy our time being together.”

I felt it, too. I wanted to live and felt that my days were numbered so I best enjoy them.

I added, “I love you. All the time, you know.”

“I do know that, thanks. I’m here for you through all of this, all of it. And I love you all the time, my best friend.” He asked, “Can I go to Stanford Hospital with you?”

“Thanks, yes. Sage will arrange the flights.”

He kissed my hand and wiped his eyes. We walked to the bakery.

“Is it okay if I talk to my parents about all this? I need their support.”

“Just not Janet. We need to keep this a secret, especially since my mom is involved. Keeping it a secret is too much responsibility to put on Janet.”

Manuel dropped me off when we got back to my house. It was just noon. I wanted to email CSY6 and research the surgery to extract the tumor. I had the feeling Manuel was going to do the same after he talked to his parents.

By the time I ran the stairs, I had consumed over 1,000 calories from one donut and one pretzel croissant. I worked out for one hour, only burning 400 calories but at least I burned some. Unfortunately, my lungs burned, too. I wasn’t feeling very well.

Mom, Dad and Celia were around the dining room table, sharing a bottle of chardonnay, when I returned from my run. Seeing Mom made me want to puke.

Celia was as warm as ever. Dad glared at Mom.

It was early evening and the colors in the canyon were beginning to change. They all hugged me. I swallowed the acid when Mom came close.

“I want to chat after my shower.” I asked, “Are we going out to dinner or can we all stay home? It’ll be a lovely sunset.”

“We can stay home,” Mom answered. “I’ll start something in the kitchen.”

I felt much better after my shower. I just wanted to get the announcement over with but I didn’t know how to start. “Do you mind if I have a glass of wine, too?” I asked Dad’s permission.

“Just one,” he answered while his eyes welled up.

Mom poured me a glass. Dad shot her piercing looks of hate. I probably did, too.

“One or none. That is what I live by, Dad.” I took a sip of wine and sat down.

“How was your day, Liana Marie?” Mom started calling me Liana Marie as a peace offering. I couldn’t help but chuckle.

Well, this was as good of a time as any. “Incredible, great, yummy, horrible, dreadful, great, good—in that order.”  Mom, Celia and Dad looked at each other like I was an immature teenager. I chuckled again. I was a teenager.

“Alright. Incredible: Manuel and I made love and I had my first O.”

Celia and Dad exchanged shocked, disapproving looks. I didn’t care at first, wanting to hurt them for always leaving me alone. But then I felt childish and regretted saying it. 

“Great: my period started. I’m so happy! Since I can menstruate, I can have babies. So I want to marry Manuel this summer.”

All three shifted in their chairs with wide eyes. Dad forgot to breathe.

“Yummy: I had my first Krispy Kreme donut.”

They all laughed, but Dad was still trying to recover from my first point.

“Horrible: I met with Dr. Jack because my period started. It’s official. I have an ‘endocrine-inactive tumor’ on my pituitary gland that will cause permanent tissue damage if it is not removed.”

They all slouched, but I averted my eyes and continued.

“Dreadful: I agreed to go to Stanford next week and have the tumor removed from, like, the center of my brain. Great: Manuel bought me a pretzel croissant.” I inhaled and then added, “Good: I had a good run to the stairs, down to the canyon, and back.”

Of course, I finished speaking and then went to pieces. I had lost the energy to keep any of my jigsaw puzzle together. I was wrecked. I had absolutely nothing left. I knew it was now up to them to put me back together.