Before either of them can speak, though, an older gentleman in a white coat walks in and introduces himself as Dr. Boyles. “Nevaeh hit her head hard on the cement and has suffered a concussion. After pulling her records and seeing she’s been pre-registered for a surgery for a Meningioma brain tumor, I’ve put a call in to her doctor.”
“I did as well.”
“What do you mean she has a brain tumor?” Susan gasps, her eyes flickering from the doctor to me. “Is she going to die?”
“No,” I bark. “She’s not going to die. And she’s been trying to tell you, but you’re too busy judging and pointing fingers and playing God’s damn assistant, she hasn’t been able to.”
Susan glares, but Edward puts his hand on her shoulder before she can argue. “Now is not the time,” he says to his wife. “Nevaeh’s health is our priority. What’s being done regarding this tumor?”
“At this time, we’re monitoring the bleeding in her brain. Once the swelling goes down, we will lower the meds and little by little slowly wake her up.”
“The tumor is bleeding?” I ask. “Why can’t you go in and remove it, then?”
“Not the tumor,” the doctor clarifies. “There’s minor internal bleeding from where she hit her head. When she was first brought in, we ran tests and believe she suffered from a seizure, which could be why she hit her head. The gentleman who found her on the side of the road said she was lying there alone. We don’t know how long she was suffering and we won’t know if any permanent damage was done until she wakes up and we run more tests.”
Jesus, fuck. What the hell happened to her? Why was she by herself? None of this makes any damn sense. She wouldn’t have texted Rosco to meet her and then taken off without him, turning off her phone. I know it in my gut. Felix is responsible for this.
There’s a knock on the door and then Nevaeh’s doctor walks in. “Dr. Bromfield.” I shake his hand. “This is Nevaeh’s mom and dad, Susan and Edward. And Nevaeh’s best friend, Blaire.”
“Nice to meet you,” the doctor says politely. “I looked over Nevaeh’s chart before I came in here and was caught up on what Dr. Boyles probably already told you.”
The doctor nods in agreement. “I’ve caught them up to speed, yes.”
“So, what now?” Blaire asks.
“Now we wait for the swelling to go down and then wake her up,” Dr. Bromfield says.
“And why can’t you go in and remove this tumor?” I ask.
“Nevaeh signed a document requesting not to be operated on unless it’s life or death.” What the fuck.
“Recently?” There’s no way she would’ve done that. Not after everything we’ve discussed.
“No.” He shakes his head. “A couple years ago, but she never rescinded it.”
“What about the fact that I’m her husband? Can I make decisions for her since she’s not able to make them for herself?” I’m scared Nevaeh is going to wake up, freak out, and not want the surgery. If they could do it without having to ask her, she could wake up and it be done.
“If my daughter specified she doesn’t want the surgery, who are you to try to do it behind her back?” Susan hisses. “She must not have wanted it for a reason.”
“Yeah, because she was scared to die.”
Susan’s eyes bug out. “She can die during surgery?” Her head whips around to the doctor. “Is there any other way of removing the tumor? Shrinking it somehow? She can’t have surgery. I can’t lose her…”
“She’ll die without it,” I growl, losing my patience with this fucking woman.
“She can’t.” She shakes her head emphatically. “Doctor, please. You have to find another way.”
“Surgery is the only option,” Dr. Bromfield says. “Nevaeh agreed to it, but verbally isn’t enough. She’s stable, so we can’t do the surgery without her consent. Once she wakes up, I’ll have her fill out the proper paperwork and then we can go from there. Right now, we just need to let her brain heal. Give her body time to get stronger. I’ll be back later to check on her.”
And with that, both doctors leave.
“We’ll get another opinion,” Susan states. “Doctors are too quick to cut people open.”
“Dr. Bromfield is the best on the East Coast. Unless you want your daughter to die, she needs the surgery.”
“Knock-knock,” a nurse says, walking in. “I need to check on the patient. The doctor said it’s going to be several hours before they can consider lowering the meds, so if you need to go home to get a change of clothes or shower, now is the time.”
Susan huffs and storms out, and her husband follows.
“I’m going to go call my parents,” I tell Blaire. “Is Victor here with you?”
“He’s in the waiting room.”
“All right, call me if you need anything.”