Falling Short
an excerpt

Chapter 1

The exam room snapped into focus again. Cecelia took in three slow and steady breaths. In, 2, 3, 4; Out, 2.3.4. The anatomy poster on the wall appeared before her, a wondrous image of muscles and veins and bones and nerves. The human body was a thing of beauty and harmony. She focused on the poster, trying to bring herself back to the present. The doctor’s words were all the more powerful because she had heard them before.
“No. No treatments.”
The doctor eyed her in that curious way doctors have of being completely detached. Cecelia wanted to see him with his mask off, wanted to be more than just another patient, her disease more than merely something he wrote about in his notes.
“You realize what you’re up against, refusing these treatment options?” he asked.
She laughed. What a pompous ass. Aggressive. Inoperable. Yeah, she knew what she was up against. She knew it before he did. “We’re all up against something,” she said. “Who’s to say whether you’ll make it home tonight?”
With that she slid off the exam table and pulled her arms out of the dressing gown. The doctor stood abruptly and shot for the door. “I’ll come back in after you get dressed.”
“You can’t stay while I dress? You’re a doctor. How can it make you uncomfortable to see me naked?”
He turned around and kept his eyes on Cecelia’s face. “Most patients exercise a bit more modesty.”
She had to give him credit: he wasn’t backing down from the challenge. She started to put on her bra, changed her mind, and tossed it on the chair. After she pulled her shirt over her head she found the doctor staring at her.
“The treatments would reduce the size of the tumor, make you more comfortable.”
Cecelia pulled her skirt up to her hips and slipped her feet into her sandals. “I went through that with Evan – my husband - and besides, I already know it’s not an option for me.”
He looked around the room, his eyes searching for a peaceful place to rest and finding none before finally returning to hers. Aha! He’d pulled off the mask. But then she wanted him to look away again so she wouldn’t see the sadness; she wanted him to put the mask back on again.
“Cecelia, there are other treatment options -”
She shook her head and he turned toward the door.
“I’ll have Rachel bring the forms in case you change your mind.”
“I won’t,” she said as he closed the door. She sighed. “It won’t do any good.”
For the first time since Evan’s death, she was breaking one of her rules. She’d learned long ago not to try to change the course of her premonitions. It never did any good. But this one was a bit muddled. She’d seen what was coming – knew it and dreaded it - and she wondered if she had seen what the treatments would do to her or if she’d just imagined that part. If Evan’s pain had been unbearable for her, there was no way she could go through it herself. She just wasn’t strong enough. Maybe that was all the knowledge she needed.
No one believed her premonitions, but they always came true even if they were slightly off. This was one time when she wished everyone else was right and they were just compilations of prior knowledge and circumstance. Ironically, she hadn’t told anyone about this particular premonition and this time she had clinical data to back her up. She had an MRI, and it was clear as day.
But there was another she could do something about, one she needed time to prepare for. She may be dying, but she still had time.
Following a rare impulse, she pulled her hair from its braid and looked in the mirror. Her hair fell softly around her face and her beauty surprised her. She’d never been one to give physical appearance any merit aside from cleanliness, but there it was, staring back at her.
A swoosh of warmth around her shoulders alerted her to Evan’s presence.
“I wish I could see you,” she said to her reflection in the mirror.
I always loved to see you with your hair down.
She smiled. “You never could resist a woman with long hair and a trim waist,” she reminded him. His laughter filled her heart.
“I need your help,” she said, hurriedly. She never knew when Evan would be back, and she hoped…. “It’s about Heidi -” she started.
The door opened and a young aide stepped in. She looked around the room. “I’m sorry, did you say something?” she asked.
Cecelia resented the intrusion. She took the papers the aide offered, shuffled through them, tossed them in the trash, and walked out of the exam room.