Author's Note: Thanks to all those who've been reviewing. I really appreciate it. The usual thanks to Trish for proofreading. And as always, I appreciate any reviews and helpful comments.
Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon, but I do own the rights to this story.
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"Mom! I'm going to the Gym!"
From the laundry room, Misty heard the front door slam. Dropping a dark blue sweatshirt into the washer, she smiled at the enthusiasm Sammy was showing toward Pokemon training. If Ash had been even half as prepared for his journey, he might've won the Indigo League that first time and become a master much sooner than he had. And she certainly wasn't biased just because Sammy was her son. After all, he had the combined genes of a Grand Master and a Water Master. Of course he would do well.
She picked up a pair of her daughter's jeans. Laurel was spending the day with her best friend, Catherine Oak, who was Gary's only child and the same age as Laurel. The Oaks lived just three houses down, and the two girls had been practically inseparable since they were babies. Misty groaned as she put her hand in the left front pocket and realized it was full of ... stuff. She fished out a 3-inch piece of twine, a squashed maple leaf, a piece of a stick, the cap to a soda bottle, three acorns, and a rock.
She turned the pocket inside out over the trash can to dump out more dirt than could possibly have come from the rock and acorns. What did Laurel do anyway, pick it up by the handful and jam it into her pocket? At least the other one was empty. The phone began to ring as she placed the jeans in the washer. Not even bothering to look for the cordless, which she knew she would never find in time, she raced to the living room and picked up the phone by the sofa, settling wearily onto the cushion to take advantage of the interruption. "Hello?"
"Misty, this is Dr. Harris."
In an instant, Misty's mind raced back over the events of the last few weeks. She'd had the mammogram and ultrasound - the OB/GYN's office had indeed been able to get the tests scheduled for the next day after her visit - but she'd had to wait three days for the results. Not that the results told her anything. All Dr. Grant had said was that there was a 'large mass' and she wanted Misty to see a surgeon for a biopsy. Her office had set up the appointment with Dr. Harris and it had taken another two weeks to get in to see him.
Dr. Harris had been confident that the mass was a fluid-filled cyst, so he had used a syringe to try and aspirate it, but he'd had no luck. There was no fluid to be drawn off. He had then done what he called a needle biopsy, which involved the use of a gun-like device that, when triggered, shot some kind of needle into her breast and extracted a tissue sample. Even though she'd been given a local anesthetic, the procedure had been rather painful and had actually left a bruise. The surgeon had told her he expected the biopsy report in a couple of days, and that he would call her. He'd also stated his optimism that, despite the lack of fluid, the lump was still nothing serious. Well, it was the optimism of an answer in two days that had been misplaced. It had been a week and a day now. Did everything dealing with the health profession always take so long?
"I apologize for the delay in getting back to you."
The doctor's voice jerked Misty's attention back to the present. "Well, I was beginning to wonder about it," she responded with an uneasy chuckle.
"I'm really sorry, Misty," he continued. "But I don't have good news."
The words hung in the air for only a moment before instinct caused Misty to put her emotions on hold and her behavior on autopilot. "Okay," she prompted so calmly she might as well have been discussing a fund-raiser for the PTA.
"The lump is malignant and is called a mucinous carcinoma." Dr. Harris somehow managed to pour both sympathy and a professional distance into his tone. How did doctors do that, Misty wondered? Was it a course they took in medical school?
"There is one good thing," he went on. "This particular type of tumor tends to grow quite large before it spreads, so we have a pretty good chance that you found it early enough."
"Okay," she repeated.
"I'd like to talk to both you and your husband as soon as possible. I won't be in the office this afternoon, but what about 9:00 tomorrow morning?"
"Okay." It seemed to be the only word she was capable of uttering.
"Good," Dr. Harris said. "I'll see you then."
"Thank you for calling," Misty replied politely out of habit.
Replacing the receiver slowly, she stared unseeing out the window. The idea crossed her mind that she should be hysterical right now. 'Why don't I feel anything? At the very least I should be crying.' But no tears fell, and she found herself making a mental list of details that needed to be handled. She reached for the phone again and began to dial.
"Pallet Gym, this is Elaine." The cheery voice belonged to the teenage girl who was working in the Gym office for the summer.
"Hi, Elaine. It's Misty. I need to talk to Ash." Her words came out sounding calm and rational. 'Just like normal,' she thought. She didn't sound like someone whose reality had just been altered. And that really was the case - it didn't feel as if she had changed, but that the world around her had slid off its axis. What was she ... ?
"Misty? Are you still there?"
Misty blinked. "Oh ... yeah, I'm here ... uh ... I'm sorry, what were you saying?"
Elaine sighed. "I said Ash is battling somebody right now. Do you want me to have him ... oh, wait. Here he comes now ... Ash! Ash! Phone for you! It's Misty!"
Misty had to move the phone away from her ear a bit. Well, nobody ever said Elaine wasn't an enthusiastic employee. At a more normal volume, she heard the teenager say, "Misty, I'm gonna transfer you to his office."
"Thanks, Elaine." She heard the phone ring only once on the other end before Ash picked up.
"Hey, Myst. What's up?"
Now her heart was pounding. Why couldn't she have kept that numbness just a little longer? Her mouth had gone dry and she couldn't seem to find any words at all, much less ones that would make this any easier.
"Myst?"
"Ah ... " she croaked. Clearing her throat, she tried again. "Ash? ... um ... Dr. Harris just called."
Ash was silent for a few moments. "What did he say?"
Misty swallowed. "It ... it was ... malignant."
"No." He barely breathed the word.
God, she hated scaring him this way. She hurried to explain what the doctor had said about the type of tumor and the likelihood that she had found it early enough. She could tell this eased his fears a bit, but she could still hear the worry in his tone when he said he was coming straight home. She started to tell him not to do that - she was afraid she would fall apart if he did - but she knew he needed to be with her right now.
"What about Sammy? He's on his way to the Gym so you can help him with the new Paras you gave him."
"I'll get Brad to work with him," Ash replied, referring to one of his assistant trainers, "and then bring him home this evening." He paused. "Are you going to be alright until I get there?"
She forced a smile. "I'll be fine."
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To be continued ...