Chapter 2 - The Room Went Silent
The emergency department was crowded.
Maya sat beside me with her arms wrapped around her stomach.
After almost forty minutes, a nurse called her name.
“Maya Thorne?”
We followed her through a set of double doors.
She checked Maya's blood pressure, temperature, pulse, and weight.
The nurse frowned at the screen.
“Have you lost weight recently?”
Maya looked at me.
“Yes,” I answered.
“How much?”
“Maybe fifteen pounds.”
“In how long?”
“A little over a month.”
The nurse's expression changed.
“Was the weight loss intentional?”
“No.”
Maya spoke quietly.
“I just don't feel hungry anymore.”
The nurse typed something.
“How long has the abdominal pain been happening?”
“About four weeks.”
“Constant or intermittent?”
Maya hesitated.
“It's there most of the time now.”
“Any vomiting?”
“Sometimes.”
“Dizziness?”
“Yes.”
The nurse looked at me.
“Has she been evaluated before today?”
“No.”
I hated how guilty that single word made me feel.
Soon, a doctor entered.
He introduced himself as Dr. Patel.
He examined Maya's abdomen carefully.
When he pressed near her lower stomach, she flinched sharply.
“There?”
“Yes.”
He stopped.
“How painful?”
“Eight.”
“Okay. I'm not pressing there again.”
He stood.
“I'd like blood work and an ultrasound. Depending on what we see, possibly additional imaging.”
My mouth went dry.
“You think something's wrong?”
“I don't want to speculate.”
That was not comforting.
Maya grabbed my hand.
“Mom?”
“It's okay.”
But I wasn't sure anymore.
The blood work came first.
Then we were moved to ultrasound.
The technician smiled as Maya lay back.
“This shouldn't hurt. Let me know if anything is uncomfortable.”
For the first several minutes, she chatted casually.
School.
Soccer.
Music.
Then she moved the probe lower.
The conversation stopped.
I watched her eyes.
She stared at the monitor.
Clicked something.
Measured something.
Moved the probe.
Measured again.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
“I can't interpret images for you.”
“But you saw something.”
“I need the radiologist to review this.”
Her voice had changed.
Maya looked at me.
“Mom?”
I squeezed her hand.
The technician left.
Five minutes passed.
Then ten.
Finally, the door opened.
Dr. Patel entered with another physician.
Nobody smiled.
He looked at Maya first.
“Maya, I need to speak with your mother for a moment.”
Her fingers tightened around mine.
“No.”
Dr. Patel paused.
“I want her to stay.”
I sat beside her.
“Whatever it is, tell us together.”
He nodded.
“The ultrasound shows a large mass in Maya's lower abdomen.”
I couldn't process the word.
“A mass?”
“Yes.”
“What kind?”
“We don't know yet.”
Maya stared at him.
“Cancer?”
“Maya, don't jump there. There are several possibilities, many of them treatable. Right now our concern is the size and location.”
“How big?” I asked.
He looked at the other physician.
“Large enough that we need a surgical specialist immediately.”
Everything in the room seemed to disappear except his voice.
“Is she in danger?”
“Potentially, yes.”
Maya began crying.
I moved beside her.
“Hey. Look at me.”
“Mom, am I going to die?”
“No.”
I said it immediately, even though terror was climbing up my throat.
Dr. Patel stepped closer.
“We are not saying that. You're in the right place. But we need to act quickly.”
My phone vibrated.
Robert.
I stared at his name.
Maya saw it.
“Dad?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to tell him?”
I looked at the doctors.
Then at my daughter.
“Yes.”
I answered.
“Where are you?” Robert asked immediately.
“At the hospital.”
Silence.
“What?”
“I picked Maya up from school.”
“You did what?”
“Robert, listen to me.”
“You took her to an emergency room without even calling me?”
“Listen!”
The room went quiet.
I had almost never shouted at him.
“They found something.”
Another pause.
“What do you mean, something?”
“A mass.”
His voice changed.
“A what?”
“They're bringing in a surgeon.”
“No. That doesn't make sense.”
“Robert—”
“She had stomachaches.”
“I know.”
“You said nausea.”
“I know.”
“Emily…”
His breathing became audible through the phone.
“Is Maya okay?”
I looked at her.
She was watching me.
“She needs you here.”
“I’m coming.”
He hung up.
Forty minutes later, Robert appeared in the doorway.
His tie was gone.
His shirt was half untucked.
He looked at Maya.
Then at the IV in her arm.
Then at me.
“What happened?”
Before I could answer, a woman in blue surgical scrubs entered behind him.
“Mr. and Mrs. Thorne?”
“Yes.”
“I'm Dr. Brennan, pediatric surgery.”
Robert turned toward her.
“What exactly did you find?”
She opened Maya's scans on the monitor.
“This is the mass.”
Robert stared.
His face drained of color.
“That whole thing?”
“Yes.”
“How long has it been there?”
“We can't know exactly.”
Robert swallowed.
“But she only started complaining recently.”
Maya looked at him.
“No, Dad.”
He turned.
“What?”
“I've been complaining for weeks.”
Robert said nothing.
Maya's voice trembled.
“You just didn't believe me.”
Dr. Brennan looked from Maya to Robert, then back to the scan.
“We need to focus on what happens next.”
“What happens next?” I asked.
She faced us.
“We operate.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
Robert blinked.
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Can't we wait for more tests?”
Dr. Brennan's answer was immediate.
“No.”
The room went silent again.
May you like
Then she added the words none of us would ever forget.
“Waiting is exactly what I don't want you to do.”
