Chapter Seven

Aunt Jen receives some deastating news.

CHAPTER SEVEN

By her fifth day at Yewell Memorial Jennifer Beauchamp was feeling a bit more comfortable. The doctor had sent her for a wide range of tests, from blood and urine tests to x-rays and scans. The whole thing had left her feeling rather weak and feeble. Her consultant, Dr Adams, was due to conduct a ward round in the morning. Hopefully he would have some answers. Maybe, Jen hoped, she would be able to go home. She missed her little house and the familiar things she had shared with Lewis. Mostly she missed Lewis himself and all those little sayings of his. 'Chin up, Jenny' and ' don't let the b******s get you down'. Jen smiled at the memory.

Lewis had always called her Jenny; his little Jenny Wren. He was her best friend. What was that phrase kids used nowadays? BFF, best friends forever, that was it. Lewis had been her BFF. He always had her back. Ten years ago, when she had battled bowel cancer, Lewis had visited every day. He did not drive, his eyesight was poor, but had made the trek by bus. And Jen had done the same for him, driving to the hospital each afternoon; she was by his side, right up until his final breath. On one occasion they had even been hospitalised together, with a bad bout of gastric flu.

Jen looked up as visitors started trickling in through the door. It was always a worrying moment for patients, wondering if they would have a visitor, someone to ease the boredom of ward-life. But her heart lightened at the sight of her dear friends Peter and Peggy Scott.

“You're looking tired” Peggy noted as she kissed Jen on the cheek.

“This place never stops” Jen answered. “It carries on day and night. They work so hard, these nurses. I don't know how you ever managed back in your day.”

Peggy smiled as memories of her nursing days pushed at her mind, some of them now fading with age. She gave Jen the squash and biscuits she had asked for, and Jen settled her bill. She always insisted on paying her way whether it be money or an act of kindness.

Peggy and Peter made themselves comfortable at the bedside and began to give Jen news of the world beyond Norris Ward. They were soon interrupted, however, when Dr Adams, Jen's consultant, came into the ward and asked for a few minutes alone with Mrs Beauchamp.

“Anything you have to tell me can be said in front of my friends” Jen told him, nervously.

The doctor fetched himself a chair. He sat down facing the Scotts across the bed, and spent a moment perusing his notes. As he looked up, Jen held her breath. This was it.

“The test results are back” Dr Adams began. “I'm afraid it is bad news, Mrs Beauchamp. You have ovarian cancer, at an advanced stage.”

Jen's mouth felt very dry. The background noise in the ward dimmed to an unintelligible murmur and Jen had the strange sensation that she was looking at Dr Adams from inside a tunnel. At her side Peter and Peggy sat in stunned silence. It was Peggy who found her voice first.

“What treatment do you suggest, Doctor?”

Dr Adams was a big man with a gentle manner. He shifted uneasily on the small hospital chair and leaned forwards slightly, hesitating just a tad too long before answering. He spoke slowly and carefully.

“The cancer is at a very advanced stage, terminal in fact. We could operate, perform an oophorectomy, removal of the ovaries, and a hysterectomy at the same time. But such a major procedure could prove too much for a woman in your condition and stage of life, Mrs Beauchamp. It would not be a cure, but could cause the cancer to spread.” He paused for his words to sink in.

“Is there nothing you can do?” Jen asked, eager to grasp any shred of hope in this bleak situation.

“You could have a course of chemotherapy, a low dose. That would slow the disease down and help with the build up of fluid in your abdomen. We call it ascites. We can make you more comfortable, improve your quality of life.”

Jen looked desperately to her friend for support. “I can't do it again, the chemo, not without Lewis!”

Peggy gently took hold of her hands.

“Whatever happens we are here for you” she tried to console Jen as best she could .

The doctor stood up to take his leave.

“I'll let you mull things over, Mrs Beauchamp. A councillor will be along to see you later. She will explain things more thoroughly, outline the options, answer any questions.”

Dr Adams went on his way, leaving Jen and her friends sitting in silence while the hustle and bustle of hospital life carried on around them.

After a few minutes a nurse came and drew the curtains around the bed. She had brought a tray of medical paraphernalia which she placed on the over-bed swing-table.

“I'm going to draw off some fluid, Jennifer, make you a bit more comfortable” the nurse explained.

“Time for us to make tracks” Peter told Jen. “See you soon.”

Jen caught hold of Peggy's sleeve as she rose.

“Will you call Emily for me, to let her know about....... about the......” she found it hard to say the words. “I don't think I can” Jen added, tears glistening in her eyes.

“As soon as I get home” Peggy promised.

She walked away, but turned to look back at the curtained bed where her dear friend lay. Through a gap she could see the nurse's hands moving methodically as she prepared a large syringe. As the nurse began to draw off fluid Peggy tore her gaze away.

“God give her strength” she prayed.

Once back at home Peggy sat by the telephone. She took a moment, some deep, calming breaths, learned at a long ago yoga class. She sent up another silent prayer to the Almighty; centred herself. Peter sat down in his usual armchair. He smiled at her behind gold rimmed glasses, the corners of his eyes creasing fondly.

Peggy reached one hand toward the phone; it shook slightly, she withdrew it.

“No time like the present” Peter encouraged.

His wife reached for the receiver once more. She keyed in Emily's number, waited white it rang. She spoke calmly and steadily when Emily answered.

“Hello Emily, it's Peggy Scott. Jen asked me to call you. She's had some news this afternoon.”

“Some bad news?” Emily had been fearing the worst. Jen would have rung in person if it had been otherwise.

Peggy hesitated, uncertain, unsure how to continue. 'Best to bite the bullet, to just come out and say it' she counselled herself. “Jen has ovarian cancer, terminal ovarian cancer.” There, it was done, out in the open. Peggy let out a long breath she did not know she was holding.

“How is she taking it?” Emily asked, a catch in her voice.

“I think we're all a bit numb, in shock.”

“You were there, when she heard the diagnosis?”

“We both were” Peggy confirmed. “A nurse came to draw off fluid, so we left. I looked back through a gap in the curtains. Oh Emily! The fluid, it was an horrific colour!” Her voice shook as she uttered the words.

“Is there nothing they can do?” Emily asked.

“The consultant said Jen could have chemo, but it would only slow the cancer down. There is no cure.” Peggy's voice trailed off in despair. Her best friend had been given the worst news possible and she didn't know how to help her to bear it.

“There must be something they can do” Emily responded desperately. “Some kind of operation? They always operate, don't they? Then do chemotherapy afterwards, or radiotherapy.”

“The doctor said it would be too big an operation for a woman over seventy. Even if they did operate, the cancer would just spread.”

Both women fell silent, lost in shared despair. Each mentally groping for a way to cope with this brutal twist of fate.

“We must hold firm, Emily” Peggy encouraged. “Jen set us all an example when Lewis was fading. She never wavered, never gave up hope, never ceased to give him all the love and care she could. We must do the same.”

“For Jen and for each other” Emily added.

There was no more to be said for now. But no one could know just what would happen in the next few weeks or even months to come.