Wish Upon a Star Read Online Free Page A

same surgical procedure as mastectomy. And
second..." She glanced at Annie's chart. "You're in your early thirties.
Have you thought about children?"
    Annie and I looked at each other. Children had come up in
conversation a few times, but not recently.
    "I have," she said.
    "As you may know from your homework, chemotherapy can
cause infertility. There are procedures available that can allow you
to freeze eggs before you start treatment."
    "That will cause treatment to be delayed though, yes? And
I'd have to take estrogen, which can increase the cancer rate."
    Dr. Furman chuckled. I got the impression she was
impressed with Annie's level of preparedness. The sound also
conveyed a deep empathy she clearly had for her patients. I couldn't
speak for Annie, but it made me feel safe.
    "You've been thorough in your homework. The answer is
yes to both."
    "Or I can roll the dice and hope for the best after this is all
over."
    I felt like I was a step behind in the conversation. Annie and
I had discussed many things since her diagnosis, but kids and
fertility treatments hadn't been among them.
    The doctor let us absorb the information in silence. She
wasn't being pushy or bossy, which was reassuring, even though I
still felt like a five year old alone in a forest at night. I hoped Annie
felt as encouraged as I did. After a moment or two, she gave her
decision-is-made nod.
    "I want option two."
    Dr. Furman made a note in the chart. "Good. Given the
current state of your cancer, that's the option I would have
recommended. There are no guarantees with fertility procedures
and I don't want to postpone your treatment. There are a number of
wonderful hematology oncologists with whom I work. Julia will give
you a couple of names for your consideration. Before you can start
chemotherapy, there are a few procedures you'll need to complete. I
recommend a heart scan, a full body MRI and you'll need to decide if
you want a port for the chemotherapy infusions."
    I wrote as fast as I could while Annie and the doctor
discussed these additional procedures. All the while, a question
festered inside me, like an abscess that had been left untreated for
far too long. When Annie said she was satisfied, the doctor looked at
me.
    "I know you've been busy taking notes, Mr. McCarty, and
that's great. So I'd like to ask if you have any questions."
    I glanced at Annie, and then at the doctor, and finally down
at my notes. Now or never, dude . I took a deep breath.
    "Based on what you know, what are Annie's odds?"
    Dr. Furman straightened her collar. "That's a question I
often get from men. You want a number, something concrete. I get
that. You need to understand that everyone responds to treatment
differently, and while it's impossible to predict the future, at the end
of treatment, Ms. Wilson will either be cured or she won't. But if I
had to give you a percentage on a successful treatment, I would say
sixty percent."
    The blood in my veins froze. Sixty percent.
    That meant Annie's odds of survival were better than half.
But... It also meant a forty percent chance of her not surviving. My
head began to swim.
    We'd just sent out the wedding save-the-date notices, for
crying out loud. Annie and I were supposed to ride off into the sunset
together. Mom and Dad were both gone. I couldn't lose her, too. Stop it. Be her rock. Focus on the sixty . I swallowed and looked
into Annie's eyes.
    "That's better than half. The odds are in our favor. Time to
get to it?"
    Her eyes were a little watery, but she sat up straight and
nodded again.
    "Time to get to it."

Four
    Annie poured over my notes on the drive home, adding a few
things here and there, putting question marks next to words she
couldn't read. She reached toward the heater and wiggled it a couple
of times before turning the knob up full blast.
    "Does this thing ever warm up?"
    The control freak in her was coming to the fore. While she
couldn't control those malevolent cells inside her, I could tell she