I feel defeated and sad. I can’t even walk on the beach with my family without being reminded of my illness. I sniff and try to will the tears away.
“Hey.” Using my chin, Lincoln turns my head to face him. “Don’t let this take away the enjoyment of this beautiful day. I was getting tired anyway and wanted to sit and rest.”
I snort. “You’re such a liar.”
“Am not.” He steals a quick kiss. “Gray kicked my butt playing soccer today.”
Wrapping an arm around his waist, I lie my head down on his shoulder. “How did I ever get so lucky to have met you?”
“It was kismet,” he murmurs.
“It was fate,” I reply.
He pulls me closer. “We were written in the stars since the beginning of time.”
“It was our destiny.”
“Hey, Mom, you okay?” Gray asks, walking up to us.
Before I can answer, Lincoln does for me. “Yeah, bud. Mom’s okay. We were just resting for a while.”
He nods and sits down on the sand beside us. Gemma walks up a moment later, flipping the bucket over and depositing the shells back inside. She sits on the other side of us.
Together, as a family, we sit and watch the waves crash and the birds fly by.
Chapter Seventeen
LINCOLN
We’re led once again to Dr. Becker’s office. Molly’s last couple of visits were in the standard patient room, so we’re both surprised this visit isn’t. What’s even more of a surprise is the older gentleman sitting in a chair a few feet away from Dr. Becker’s desk. When I say old, what I really meant to say is ancient. The guy couldn’t be any younger than eighty years old. His smile is kind, though, when his eyes move to a tense Molly beside me.
Before we can take our seat, Dr. Becker and the other man stand.
“Molly, Lincoln, I’d like you to meet Dr. Sanders. He’s the colleague I told you about when I first gave you your diagnosis.”
Dr. Sanders holds out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you both. Although I wish it were under different circumstances.”
For as old as he looks, his voice doesn’t give away a hint of frailness.
“It’s nice to meet you too,” Molly replies.
I offer my hand next.
“Dr. Sanders is in town for a few days. He asked if you minded him sitting in on one of your appointments. I hope me springing this on you today is okay.”
“Sure,” Molly answers.
We all take our seats, and Dr. Becker doesn’t waste any time getting to the reason we are here.
“How have you been doing, Molly?”
“Honestly? I feel like I’m falling apart. My legs are getting worse, and I’ve had a few memory lapses. Those are our two main concerns. It seems like things are progressing so much faster than we thought.”
Although Molly and I have talked about that exact concern, her words hit me like a ton of bricks. We were given a timeframe of two to five years. When Dr. Becker said there was a possibility it may be shorter, I was thinking maybe a few months shorter. It never crossed my mind that it could be even sooner than that.
The concern on both Dr. Becker’s and Dr. Sanders’ faces has my anxiety growing.
“How often do the spasms happen, and how long do they last?”
“At first, it was maybe once a week, but now it’s happening almost every day. And they last several minutes.”
“Is it the whole leg or only certain muscles? And which leg becomes stiff?” Dr. Sanders inquires.
Molly rubs her hands up and down her jean-covered thighs. “It’s happened in both legs, though usually not at the same time. And it’s my whole leg. They become so stiff I can’t move them until the episode is over.”
Dr. Sanders shares a look with Dr. Becker that makes me really fucking nervous.
“And your memory lapses. How often do they happen?”
When Molly’s fingers dig into the muscles of her thighs, I reach over and grab her hand. I give her a gentle smile when her distressed gaze locks on me. She closes her eyes a moment before looking back at her doctor.
“Not as often as the leg spasms, but still way too often for my liking.”
“I’d say probably once every few days,” I elaborate.
“It actually happens more often than that.”
Molly’s quiet voice has me jerking my head around to her.
“I didn’t want you to worry,” she explains, still keeping her voice low. “You’ve already got so much on your plate. I didn’t want to add more.”
“Molly, baby.” I lean over so my face is closer to hers. “Please don’t keep stuff like this from me. Let me be there for you. I’m helpless in every other way. Let me at least give you my support.”
Tears brim in her eyes, but she blinks them away before they can fall.
“I hate this so much,” she whispers. “I hate what this is going to do to you and the kids.”
“I hate it too, but Molly, I’m in this with you. All the way to the end.” My voice breaks on the last word.
We stare at each other for several long seconds before Molly looks back at the doctor. “It happens almost every day. It’s little things mostly. Like forgetting where we keep the plates or which drawer holds my shorts. There have been a few instances where I’ve forgotten more important things, though.”
Dr. Becker spends the next few minutes typing notes on his laptop.
“Is this normal?” I ask him once he’s finished. “It seems like she’s progressing pretty fast.”
Dr. Sanders speaks. “There is still so much we don’t know about this disease. With so few cases, it’s hard to do extensive research. For most cases, the average life span is three years. Though there have been some patients who lived a couple of years beyond that. But on the opposite end, there have been a few patients who didn’t last a year. It mainly depends on the onset of the disease.”
Fear spikes through me at the mention of less than a year. I hide the emotion behind a tense jaw.
“Dr. Becker said you had a patient with GSS. How far along are they?”
He frowns. “She was diagnosed thirty-eight months ago.”
“And can I ask how she’s doing?”
His voice turns gentle. “She passed away a couple of months ago after being in a coma for a month.”
“Oh.” Molly deflates in her chair beside me. “So, that means my time could be shorter than what we originally thought?”
“It’s a harsh disease. Each person is different. There’s no rhyme nor reason as to why some people live longer than others. You were diagnosed a couple of months ago, correct? And exhibiting symptoms for several weeks prior?” He looks to Dr. Becker for confirmation. “Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean when you first started experiencing symptoms that was the onset of the disease. It could have been present already, and you just didn’t show signs or discounted them for something else. The only thing we can do is make you as comfortable as possible.” He pauses. “And to advise you to not waste the time you have left. Enjoy your family and friends. Don’t let this disease define you, Molly. You are more than this illness. Laugh and love as hard as you can.”