Daryl walked Carol into their small house. After locking and chaining the door to ensure they were not disrupted, he said one word.
"Talk."
She sighed and leaned her back against the wall. She had to face this with him. She had to include him, had to let them both FEEL what they were going through now.
"The first time was just a lump – when I was breastfeeding Sophia. I thought it was just a plugged milk duct or something, but it wouldn't go away. It was tender and moved when touched. When I took Sophia to her well baby check with her doc, I had them look. Ended up with them draining it with a needle. Fluid was not cancerous, and it didn't come back."
He took a deep breath and nodded for her to continue, knowing there was a lot more to be told.
"The second time was when Sophia was in pre-school. Another lump, but the other breast. Felt the same to me as the first one. By the time I got to the doctor for it, my whole side hurt. Again, it was just a cyst – not cancerous, but was larger and more solid. My doctor said that I needed to keep a close eye out for any changes because my family history. My mom and aunt had cancerous ones but were fine after removal."
He just waited, knowing the discussion was going to get worse quickly.
"The third time was after Ed beat me. I was in the hospital, and had four broken ribs. I guess something didn't look right, and they did an ultrasound. They found the cyst that I had just discovered the week before and one I hadn't noticed in the other breast. They didn't bother with needles that time. They just did two lumpectomies. Ed never even knew. I had so many scars from that night I don't think he even suspected that those two were from the hospital, not him. The doctors knew of course, but didn't say anything to him when he picked me up when I was released from that latest 'trip down the stairs'. When I went to my doctor for follow up on the ribs, he told me that with my family history and the four removals, that even though none were cancerous that my odds of getting breast cancer were high. They suggested more radical treatments. One was a preventative mastectomy. He didn't mince words, that's for sure. Said it was the best way to protect myself."
He leaned against the wall beside her and grabbed her hand. He didn't say a word, but just let her continue.
"I thought about it. I really did. If it was just me and Sophia, I think I would have. But it wasn't. I finally told Ed about what the doctor said, but I didn't tell him it had happened before." She took a deep breath, steadying herself against the memories before continuing. "He said I was even more defective than he thought. That if I thought he was going to spend his money on doctors to get my saggy tits lopped off, I was mistaken. He said it was a ploy to get bigger tits to wave in front of other men."
"So . . . . you didn't have any treatment?"
"Well, I was going to. Sophia and I were going to leave again. Stay gone. Go to a shelter, get myself a job with insurance, and then get it done. But then the turn happened. Surviving then was food, shelter, and kiling walkers. Not a preventative double mastectomy."
He nodded. "But why didn't you tell me? After all we've faced, all we've been through. Why not tell me?"
"To what end Daryl? Nobody could do anything about it. It was just another worry that didn't fit into our lives of surviving."
They stayed where the were, not saying anything more, just being together and gathering their thoughts.
Finally, he sighed and sank down the wall to sit on the floor. "So now it's back. When did you find out?"
"Two days ago. I went and saw Denise. Talked with her about everything I could remember from what the doctor said before. I don't know what I was expecting. Hope maybe? That maybe this place would be able to help me not to die?"
"You ain't gonna die. Stop with that shit."
"That's the thing Daryl. We will never know for sure if I have cancer or not. There are no easy tests. No high tech medical equipment. It's like being back at the turn of the century before medical advances, and all we have is a doctor's intuition about a cyst. Between my doctor's advise before the turn, and what Denise could tell about the cyst and my history, she gave options. But, I don't want to keep waking up every day wondering what is going to happen. If I am going to find more lumps. I don't want to die when I am finally living. I want the risk gone."
"Take out the risk while we can . . . " Daryl nodded his agreement.
"We don't know what tomorrow will bring – ever. But I can decide this. Today. It's a choice I am given. I want to make this choice before I don't have a choice and things get worse."
He wrapped his arms around her, and buried his face into her shoulder. She was right. They didn't always have choices in this life. He would make sure everybody helped make hers a reality.