Upon entering the office, Stanley was flabbergasted by the sheer volume of boxes of files and loose stacks of paper. The mess reminded him of those old 'Hoarders' episodes that he used to watch with his mother. Brushing past the overt sign of dedication, he went to sit in the open chair in the sea of boxes.
The Doctor broke the silence by obsessively searching through stacks of papers and explaining, "Mr. Hudson, I apologize for the mess...I just arrived a few months ago and I have not had any significant storage space assigned to me."
The natural urge to continue his rambling was clear, but he cut it off as he found the item in question, "Where is it-AH HA! There you are! Yes. Yes. There we go."
The hidden Manilla folder appeared far more worn than Stanley ever thought possible. Despite its age and lack of spine, it was well taken care of and evidently still fit for duty.
The Doctor broke Stanley's thoughts by explaining what he found, "So, my dear boy, it seems you have been quite unlucky in this life. But not to worry! We'll have you right as rain soon enough."
'What.'
The utter disbelief must have been plastered all over Stanley's face because the Doctor continued, "Uhhh, I am not sure what your Primary Care Physician told you - I specifically told Dr. Addison to post-pone his diagnosis so I could do more testing on the biopsy he sent to me - but by the look on your face...this is news, yes?"
In a voice as dry as the Sahara, Stanley responded, "Y-yeah, I was told it was essentially terminal that's why I-" The Doctor erupted in outrage, shouting, "TERMINAL?! THAT FOOL! HAS HE EVER PRACTICED MEDICINE A DAY IN HIS LIFE?!?!?!"
The intense rage smoldered under a calm visage as the Doctor explained, "My boy. You ARE in 'Stage 4.' But this particular sub-family of cancer is almost always caught in stages 3 and 4. The regular version is considerably more deadly in those stages, with a survival rate of 37% over 5 years for distant tumor formation. Your version of Ewing's is different. We don't know everything about it, but it seems like the Osteocytes form smaller clusters - which helps with eradication - in the upper body, rather than the lower."
Stanley was too stunned to understand the explanation and asked with a haunting voice, "So...I'm not going to be dead in a few months?"
The absolute vitriol that filled the Doctor's eyes told him all he needed to know. Dr. Rajasundaram leaned forward and took Stanley's hand, "Mr. Hudson, I have no wish to provide false hope. But. After doing 23 years of research on this specific family of cancers in my home country, my gut is telling me that you are likely to experience a...favorable outcome. I have checked your LDH and all of your panels, and they do NOT indicate a risk of sudden demise. You possess almost every advantage to achieve remission. The only thing I could have hoped for was for you to be younger...but that is all."
Dr. Rajasundaram palmed his forehead and sighed, "I believe I may know why your physician interpreted my words in such a way...I specifically didn't want to start you on your personalized treatment plan BEFORE I could confirm the family of the disease."
They both leaned back in their chairs. Stanley could feel his heart pounding a mile a minute. The rush of emotions was clearly beginning as a tear ran down his cheek.
The memories of his mother coming home to a distraught mess were at the forefront of his mind. She had to pick him up off the floor and make him presentable before his little sister got home.
He owed that woman so much.
The pain resided as he pulled out his phone and sent a text to his mom, [Can I call?]
He immediately got a response, [I thought you were supposed to be in a meeting with the Doc? Yes.]
Stanley called and put his mom on speaker, "Momma', listen, are you sitting down?"
He could hear the venom in her voice as she reprimanded him, "Son. If you don't-" He cut her off, 'Kid gloves' were not something a woman like this 'takes kindly to', "Ma', the Doctor says there was a miscommunication. My cancer is still Stage 4, but the prognosis is much better than we thought."
The line went silent as the news overtook her, with the Doctor adding, "I postponed my original judgment while I had more testing performed on the sample that was provided. My instinct to withhold judgment was correct, as all signs are indicative of an even rarer form of bone cancer - one that hasn't even been named yet."
At this point, Stanley regretted rejecting his mother's presence. It would have been much better for her to be there in person, but his sister needed to be watched like a hawk. Though, now that Big Brother wasn't dying, she should start improving again...
Mrs. Hudson spoke in an excited voice as she paced around their living room, "That is excellent news, Doc. Stanley, I'll tell your sister when she gets home from school in a few, so just focus on driving home safely, okay?"
Stanley nodded and called out, "Love you, Mamma'!" to which she replied, "I love you too, sweetie. And thank you, Dr. Rajasundaram. I'll be sure to mention how helpful you have been when I have lunch with Kelly."
She hung up and left Dr. Rajasundaram speechless.
Stanley knew better than to ask.
The emotions that were flying high seemed to come crashing back down as a new fire ignited in his soul, "So, what's the plan, Doc?"
