Afraid To Lose Her. Syndi Powell

get it. What did I do wrong?”

      Dez was desperate to reassure her. “I don’t think cancer discriminates. It can happen to anyone.”

      “Well, it sucks.”

      Dez could only nod as she stared into space, lost in her worries. He wasn’t sure what else he could do for her, but he was willing to do whatever she needed. He’d sit next to her at chemo appointments. He’d bring her food when she could eat and hold her hair when she couldn’t keep anything down. He only wished he could take the cancer from her. To protect her from the ravages that the treatment would inflict on her body. That was one thing he couldn’t do.

      Sherri rose to her feet. “I gotta go tell Cap I’ll be out for six to eight weeks while I recuperate from the surgery.”

      Dez shot backward, almost tripping over a chair. “Six weeks without you here? No. I could barely handle a few days. You can’t.”

      “No choice.” She took a deep breath and released it, but didn’t move from her spot. She seemed to focus in on him, offering him her hand. “I don’t think I can do this alone, Dez. Will you come with me?”

      Anything for her. “And I’m telling him that I’ll be in the waiting room the day of your surgery. And any other day you need me. I’ll be there for you, Sherri. I promise.” He followed her into the captain’s office. The click of the door shutting behind them sounded like the end of something.

      * * *

      WITH TWO WEEKS to go until her surgery, Sherri made a list of things she would need to accomplish before then. Cases to close. Medical supplies to purchase and store for when she’d need them.

      She met with her surgeon a few days before the op, and VanGilder went over every question she and Mama could come up with, as well as a few from Dez. As she left the office with instructions for presurgery, she glimpsed Dr. Sprader sitting in the waiting room. She gave a small wave to the ER doctor. “Are you seeing Dr. VanGilder, too?”

      April nodded. “He’s one of the best.” She put a hand on Sherri’s arm. “How are you handling all this?”

      “You saw my chart?”

      “No, but you’re walking out of a surgeon’s office with a list of pre-op instructions. It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.”

      “Right.” She glanced at the paper and showed it to April. “It’s a little overwhelming, isn’t it?”

      “As one who’s gone through it already, I can give you some tips if you’d like.”

      Sherri nodded. “That would be great.”

      April acknowledged the nurse who had just called her name. “I should be finished here in about twenty minutes.” She dug through her purse and found paper and pen, then wrote out an address. She thrust the note into Sherri’s hand. “If you don’t have plans tonight, we can meet for dinner. I’ll tell you everything I know.”

      Sherri glanced down at the address and nodded. “Thanks.”

      “Like I said, I’ve been where you are right now. Maybe I can make things easier for you.” April collected her things and followed the nurse out of the room.

      Sherri drove to the address that April had written down and ordered an iced tea while she waited. She drummed her fingers on the wooden table and watched the entrance to the restaurant. She opened and shut the menu several times, not interested in food. She’d lost her appetite, which Mama warned her would hurt her recovery after surgery.

      Maybe she could eat once the surgery was done. Because all she could think about now were knives and needles, and those took away any happy thought about enjoying a meal. She tried to ignore the images in her mind with a sip of her iced tea that the waitress had just brought over.

      The door suddenly swung open and April bounced in, followed by another woman. Sherri waved them over. April pointed to the other woman. “This is Page. She’s going through breast cancer treatment, too, and I thought two heads might be better than one. The more information you have, the better you’ll feel.”

      “I’m not sure. I don’t feel so great right now, to be honest.”

      April placed a hand on top of Sherri’s. “I remember. But I promise that things will get better.”

      Page shook her head and adjusted the scarf around what looked to be her bald head. “Don’t promise her things you can’t deliver, April.” Page glanced at Sherri. “April’s experience with this has been far different from mine. I think that’s why she invited me along. I didn’t have an easy time.”

      April disagreed. “Hey, I didn’t, either.”

      Page gave April a scolding look. “You breezed through it a lot more than I did.”

      April frowned. “I wouldn’t say breezed. It wasn’t exactly a walk in the park.” She reached up and touched her short, curly hair. “But I am on the other side of it now. The better side. It’s not nearly as scary. I know it sounds like your life is hitting a dead end, Sherri, but think of it as more like a detour. Your life isn’t over, and Page and I are proof of that.”

      The waitress returned to the table, and they ordered their meals. After she left, Sherri brought out a small book and pen. “I figured I’d take notes?”

      April nodded. “You’ll want to write things down as much as you can. And if you can’t, have someone else do it. There’s a lot that’s going to be thrown at you, and you don’t want to miss anything.”

      “And if you don’t understand something, ask. There’s no such thing as a stupid question.” Page used her straw to stir the lemon in her water. “I’ve been a nurse full-time for six years, but there are still things that I had to ask.”

      April spoke up again. “You’ll be wearing tops that either button or zip up the front for the first couple of months. Nothing you have to pull over your head. Check your closet now and stock up if you need to.”

      “And get a bra that opens in the front.” Page glanced at April. “That’s what she recommended, and it was some of her best advice.”

      Sherri wrote every single thing down. She watched as the two women reminisced about chemo goody bags and pillows kept in their cars to protect the scars when wearing a seat belt. “I didn’t realize all this stuff.”

      “And they’re things the doctors can’t tell you because most of them haven’t experienced it. They can explain all about the medical supplies you’ll need and things like that.” April took the pad of paper from Sherri and then wrote down several more things. “But someone who has lived through it has a different perspective.” She handed the book back to Sherri.

      Sherri read what April had added, and smiled at the phone numbers she’d listed. “My ‘in case of emergency’ numbers?”

      “You’re going to have some bad days, and that’s when you call one of us. We can talk you through it.” April slipped an arm around Page. “She helped me through mine. I helped her through hers. And now we’ll help you.”

      “Why?”

      “Consider us your boob squad.” At Sherri’s downturned lips, April shrugged. “We’ll come up with a better name. The price of membership stinks, but remember, you don’t have to go through this alone. And when you’re ready, you can stop in at the Hope Center. There’s a lot of great resources there for women like us.”

      The waitress brought their salads, and conversation paused until she left the table. Page leaned in. “Have a spokesperson to give family and friends updates so you don’t have to repeat the same details over and over.”

      April chimed in. “And let everyone who offers to help you have a chance to do something. Even if it’s bringing over a pizza, or doing a load of your laundry. This isn’t the time to be independent. That will come later.”

      Sherri