The One Who Holds Me (Sovereign Love #4)

16. Alex

16

ALEX

THEN

W alking into Dr. Adjei’s office feels like I’ve just stepped into the most suspenseful part of an action thriller. I have no problem with the office’s white walls, or the poster of the human urinary tract, or the picture frames sitting on the shelf with laminated certificates.

The problem is the pounding of my heart beating against my chest, my shallow breathing, and the perspiration dampening my underarms, which are all indicators that I’m not handling this situation as well as I thought I would.

After telling Dad about my predicament, it only took one phone call, and we were out of the house and driving half an hour to Dr. Adjei’s clinic for a consultation. The fact that hearing my story prompted Dad’s childhood friend to give us an emergency appointment today means this is serious. On our way here, I sent several prayers up to God to ease my anxiety, but I can’t shake the feeling of dread hanging over me like a dark cloud.

“Thank you so much for seeing us, Kofi.” Dad shakes Dr. Adjei’s hand.

“Daniel, please don’t thank me. It’s the least I could do, my brother. It’s one perk of having a private practice. How is Abena?”

“She’s fine. Although she doesn’t know about this yet. We thought we would assess the severity of the situation before breaking the news to her,” Dad says and the two older men turn to look at me.

“How are you, Alex?” Dr. Adjei extends his hand.

I shrug. “I’m okay, thank you.” I shake his hand and we all take our seat at the desk.

Apparently, the two men—who I sometimes refer to as the mustache twins—grew up in the same neighborhood in Accra, Ghana, and they even went to the same primary and secondary school. But Dr. Adjei got a scholarship to study abroad and left Ghana years before Mom and Dad met. When my parents finally moved to the U.S. years later, the two men reconnected and their friendship has remained strong ever since.

Over the years, our two families have visited each other most summers and in my freshman year of college, we took a trip to the Dominican Republic along with Dr. Adjei’s wife and their high school twin sons, Daniel and David. I always thought it was cool to know someone personally who is a doctor and runs a private practice, but I never thought I would one day need his services.

Dr. Adjei clears his throat and pushes his glasses close to his face before firing questions at me. “Okay, Alex. You said you found the lump a week ago, right?”

Although I’m now ninety percent certain it has been longer than a week, all I do is nod, because that’s the only action my body permits me to do.

He leans forward and rests his forearms on his desk. “Has it grown bigger since you found it?”

“I…don’t think so.” Now I’m even questioning my memory.

“Does it hurt?”

I shake my head and he moves on to ask about my sexual health history as well as whether I have any urinary symptoms. I shake my head at all his questions. Then he asks Dad about whether there is any family history of urological cancers and my body stiffens as my head turns in Dad’s direction.

Dad adjusts in his seat and fiddles with his hands before shaking his head. “Not that I’m aware of.”

“Okay, good.” Dr. Adjei sighs before continuing. “If you don’t mind, Alex, I’d like to perform a physical examination. Your dad can stay in the room and act as your chaperone.”

“Yes, please.” I turn to look at Dad, who pats my shoulder before Dr. Adjei stands up and picks up a box of gloves.

He leads us to the exam table, pulls the curtains, rattles out instructions about what he is going to do, and within five minutes, the physical examination is complete with us sitting back at his desk.

Trying to read Dr. Adjei’s facial expression is a waste of time because it’s still as neutral as when we first got here. I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing, but rather than projecting my fears onto him, I wait for him to talk.

“So, there’s definitely a lump there.” He rolls the sleeve of his white coat. “It could be something as common as a cyst, which is just a sac of fluid. Those are harmless and don’t cause any trouble.” He pauses and lets out a breath. “But what would be useful to exclude, especially in someone your age, is…testicular cancer.”

My breath hitches in my throat and before I can get my thoughts together to make a coherent sentence, Dad asks. “How can we exclude that?”

Dr. Adjei adjusts his glasses and rubs his mustache. “We would first need to do some blood tests to check for tumor markers. We can do them today and we’ll have the results ready to interpret by next week.”

“Okay, and what about a scan?” Dad asks again.

Dr. Adjei nods. “Yes, we can do an ultrasound scan next week as well to check whether this lump is a fluid-filled sac or solid.”

“Next week?” Panic sets into Dad’s voice. “Can’t he have a scan today as well?”

“I’m sorry, Daniel. I already checked the schedule, and we didn’t have any ultrasound appointments today. If there are any cancellations during the week, though, I’ll let you know.”

“No, that’s okay. Next week should be fine.” Dad responds. “Yaw is going back to college tomorrow, anyway. He can come back for the scan. Right, son?”

I lift my head up to look at the doctor as I didn’t even realize I’d been staring at the floor the entire time. Again, with my thoughts too jumbled to think about the right words, I nod and drop my gaze again to the floor.

“Great. I’ll go get the nurse who will take your blood sample today,” Dr. Adjei says before stepping out of the room, leaving me alone with Dad.

He reaches for my hand. “Don’t worry about it, son. God is in control. You hear me? He is in control.”

I nod and let out the breath I’d been holding to calm my breathing. Lord, please. Help me.

Dr. Adjei re-enters the room, followed by a nurse dressed in blue scrubs and a straight weave tied in a low ponytail. “Here’s Amanda. If you follow her, she’ll do your blood test and I’ll speak to you next week.”

“Thank you so much for your help.” Dad shakes his friend’s hand again and we follow Amanda out of the office, down the hallway, and into the third room on the right.

There are cubicles on either side of the room, some of them occupied by nurses taking blood samples from patients, while others just have patients chatting with their friends and family, or sitting on their own.

“Please take a seat here.” Amanda points to the cubicle at the far end of the room. “I’m just going to take care of something quickly in the next room and I’ll be back to take your blood sample.”

“Thank you so much,” Dad says to her, and she smiles before walking out of the room.

“Son, I’m going to get some water from the fountain and update your mom. Do you want me to get you anything?”

I shake my head, so he squeezes my shoulder again and leaves the room. Turning my head slowly to look out the window, I watch the nurses and doctors walk past. I want to pray, but I don’t know what words to say. In my panic, I take out my phone from my pocket and dial Olanna’s number. I don’t even know if I want to tell her what’s going on, but I need to talk to someone.

“Hey, baby.” Her soft voice comes through from the phone, already providing me some relief.

“Hey,” I respond as a lump builds in my throat.

“Is everything okay?” she asks, concern etched in her voice. “Is your dad okay?”

Here’s the perfect opportunity to tell her that this is not about Dad. Here’s the moment to tell her I’m so scared and I don’t want to take any tests and I prefer to live without knowing. But instead of correcting the mistakes I’ve made so far, I choose cowardice and give in to fear.

I shake my head as a tear falls. “Not really.” I sniffle and wipe my eyes. “He…uh…he has some vague symptoms and they’re going to do some blood tests and a scan. He’ll have results next week, so I’ll have to come back again.”

“Aww, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Olanna says. “I wish I was there with you right now.”

“Honestly, me too.”

“Baby, is there anything I can do to help?”

I pause for a second to steady my breathing before responding. “You can pray for me…I mean for him. That all these tests would come back normal.”

“Of course,” she says and for the next few minutes, I close my eyes and listen to her pray for healing and strength, while I claim all the prayers for myself in my heart.