Timing.
It really is everything.
I leaned in to the microphone on the control panel and flipped a switch.
‘Caroline?’
My voice boomed out on the speaker within the scan room. She shifted her gaze to the technical booth window, her eyes flooded with fear. I followed the script I always use when it is clear a patient is terrified.
‘Now I know this is all very spooky and strange. But I promise you that it will all be over in just a few minutes. OK?’
I hit the button that detonated the automatic injection system. As I did so a timer appeared on one of the screens. I turned my vision immediately to Caroline, her cheeks suddenly very red as the iodine contrast hit her bloodstream and raised her body temperature by two degrees. The scan program now kicked in, as the bed was mechanically raised upwards. Like almost every other patient Caroline shuddered. I grabbed the microphone:
‘Nothing to worry about, Caroline. Just please keep very still.’
To my immense relief she did absolutely as instructed. The bed reached a level position with the circular hoop. Twenty-eight seconds had elapsed. The bed began to shift backwards into the hoop. Thirty-six seconds when it halted, the hoop encircling her head. Forty-four seconds. Forty-six. My finger was on the scan button. I noticed it trembling. Forty-nine. And.
I hit the plunger. The scan had started. There was no accompanying noise. As always I shut my eyes, then opened them immediately as the first images appeared on the two screens in front of me, showing both mammary glands. Again I snapped my eyes shut, thinking about how her doctor would break the news to her if the growth was malignant.
But professionalism trumped fear. My eyes sprang open. And what I saw was.
A fibroadenoma. I’d seen so many of them over the years I could spot them immediately — and I’d yet to misjudge one. Without question, Caroline was harboring a fibroadenoma: a solid, round, rubbery lump that moves freely in the breast when pushed and is usually painless.
They are also benign. Always benign.
I now began to scrutinize the scan with care — my eye following every contour and hidden crevasse around the two mammary glands, like a cop scouring all corners of a crime scene, looking for some hidden piece of evidence that might change the forensic picture entirely. I searched the areolas, the nipples, the ducts, the lobules, the fat deposits, not to mention the adjoining ribs, the sternum and the surrounding muscles.
Nothing.
I went over the scan a third time, just to cover my tracks, making certain I hadn’t overlooked anything, simultaneously ensuring that the contrast was the correct level, while the imaging was of the standard that Dr Conrad required.
Nothing.
I sat back in my chair and found myself smiling. Good news. But news that I myself could not impart, though I would find Dr Conrad in a few minutes and hope that — after hearing about the patient’s pregnancy, her previous miscarriages, and her great understandable fears — she’d show the humanity I’d occasionally seen lurking behind the granitic exterior and speed through a diagnosis to Caroline’s doctor.
I peered out again at this anguished, frightened woman. My contemporary. And so much a fellow sufferer. In a moment I would reach for the microphone and tell her that the scan was over and compliment her on her bravery and brace myself for an onslaught of questions — What did you see? You’ve got to tell me, is it malignant? Is it benign? What did you see? — as soon as I walked back in to release her from the bier.
Were this my world — and it’s nobody’s world — what would I actually say, besides the fact that the lump is benign? What piece of counsel might I impart to her? Not wisdom — because one person’s wisdom is another person’s clichйs. And as there are absolutely no answers to life’s larger conundrums, it might be something as simple and blunt as this:
Amidst all the fear, the doubt, the longing, the setbacks, the hope for something better, the sense that you have boxed yourself in.
Amidst all the infernal struggles you will always have with yourself, and the realization that everything is so profoundly temporal, there is what the screen in front of me tells me: That growth within you will not kill you.
And even if, from this moment on, you continue to block yourself, disappoint yourself, lock yourself into an existence you know you don’t want, the screen still says: All clear. There is a chance now. But if, in the end, you can’t convert that chance into change, there is still one great consolation. if you choose to see it:
You’re going to live.
About the Book
How long does it take to fall in love?
For twenty years, Laura has been a good wife and a good mother. She’s supported her husband through redundancy, she’s worried about her son, she’s encouraged her daughter. She’s stopped thinking about all the places she’d like to go or all the books she’d like to discuss.
She’s not unhappy, exactly. She’s not that self-indulgent. As anyone would tell you, Laura is wonderfully constant, caring, selfless. She’s certainly an expert at putting on a brave face.
But a chance meeting in a hotel lobby reminds Laura of the young woman she used to be — and the life she’d imagined she would have.
As Laura sees a different version of herself and her future, she wonders whether we owe it to ourselves to grasp an opportunity for happiness if it’s offered to us?
From ‘the absolute master of love stories with heart-stopping twists’ (The Times) Five Days is a compelling novel about how life can change with one brief encounter.
About the Author
Douglas Kennedy’s ten previous novels include the critically acclaimed bestsellers The Big Picture, The Pursuit of Happiness, A Special Relationship, The Woman in the Fifth and The Moment. He is also the author of three highly praised travel books. His work has been translated into twenty-two languages. In 2006 he was awarded the French decoration of Chevalier de l’Ordre des Arts et des Lettres. Born in Manhattan in 1955, he has two children and currently divides his time between London, Paris, Berlin, Maine and Montreal.
Also by Douglas Kennedy
The Dead Heart
The Big Picture
The Job
The Pursuit of Happiness
A Special Relationship
State of the Union
Temptation
The Woman in the Fifth
Leaving the World
The Moment
Beyond the Pyramids
In God’s Country
Chasing Mammon