Death by Roses by Vivian R. Probst

Author:Vivian R. Probst
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: SelectBooks, Inc.
Published: 2015-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

32

It was time for Mary Lee’s one-year checkup. She sat with her feet dangling off the side of the doctor’s examination table, wearing nothing but a skimpy piece of cloth they had the audacity to call a “gown.” It amused her that even the most famous people in the world did this, including the president of the United States, the Dalai Lama, George Clooney—they all wore this attire at one time or another. She burst out laughing.

The door opened and Dr. Roberta Greyson walked in. “Glad you’re in such a good humor,” she said as she looked at Mary Lee’s chart. “You must already know the good news that your cancer is still in remission. You’ve passed the one-year mark, so congratulations, Mary Lee. You are a survivor of one of the toughest cancers on record. Always fatal at stage IV,” she added as she looked at Mary Lee and smiled. “You’re a walking, talking miracle, Ms. Broadmoor, which means that you get to go to the head of the class in my Comeback Club.”

The Comeback Club was a group of patients that Roberta managed and observed as they progressed out of the critical stages of these rare cancers. She monitored all aspects of their lives, calling attention to their successes in their “recovery journey,” while looking for clues to the puzzle of cancer and what it was that enabled each of these few but amazing Comeback Club members to overturn a terminal diagnosis. Simple cancers did not interest her, only the impossible ones, for she knew that even these would eventually fall to the scientific discoveries being made every day. She planned to be on the team that found the answer to cancer. Roberta had studied pancreatic cancer since she was a child and lost her mother to it when she was only seven.

In her mid-forties, Roberta could have been a reasonably attractive woman, but the stress of her career and her care for the suffering of others was etched deeply on her face, causing her to look much older. She cared nothing for her appearance or how the world perceived her. Perhaps it was the relentless pursuit of a cure that aged her, or perhaps it was reaching beyond medical science into complementary aspects and living in that strange, tense place in between. Her alternative approach isolated her from traditionalist colleagues who remained steadfast to the science in which they had been educated. She knew that throughout history, every new discovery met with disdain and resistance before it was accepted. It was no different now. She was tough enough to endure it, but it didn’t do much for her social life.

“You know, I don’t even think of that diagnosis anymore,” Mary Lee commented. “As far as I’m concerned, it was just a bad dream and it’s over.”

“And that’s why we will continue to schedule these appointments, Ms. Broadmoor,” Dr. Greyson retorted with a scolding look over her black-framed glasses. “It’s our job to make certain that optimism doesn’t overtake reality, although I am convinced that it certainly has an impact on the results.

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