Untreed Reads discussion

This powerful memoir or love, loss and life after by John Herbert is so good people have to giveaway free copies:

I believe every reader will come away from this story questioning the appropriate timetable to move on after losing someone you’ve built your life with. Whether you agree or disagree with John Herbert’s actions or those of his now wife, Nancy, one must admit it takes strong people to face condemnation by following their hearts. The road they’ve traveled hasn’t been an easy one, but it’s surely strengthened their relationship and the love they have for each other.

Enter to win a free copy at Ro-Always Inspired, and check out Untreed Reads for a book excerpt.

Rules Get Broken by John Herbert:

She arrived early for her Wednesday afternoon appointment, at three-twenty to be exact, to be absolutely certain that when her name was called, she’d be there. But that was almost an hour ago. It was now four-fifteen, and for the last fifty-five minutes all she had done was chew on the sides of her fingers, first one hand, then the other. And each time she realized what she was doing, she very consciously clasped both hands together and placed them in her lap before starting to nibble on her lower lip. And when she realized she was biting her lip, she brought a finger to her mouth and repeated the process, over and over again.

Finally, at eighteen minutes after four, she heard her name being called. “Mrs. Herbert?” yesterday’s nurse again half called, half announced. “Mrs. Herbert?”

“I’m here,” Peg answered, louder than she had intended to. “I’m here.”

“I’m sorry you had to wait so long,” yesterday’s nurse said as she led Peg down Internal Medicine’s hall for the second time in as many days. “Dr. Edwards had an emergency over at the hospital this morning, and we still haven’t recovered. Here we are.”

She stopped at a closed door halfway down the hall, knocked softly, waited a second, then opened the door and stepped just inside. From where she was standing out in the hall, Peg could see she was being ushered into Dr. Edwards’ office and not an examination room. The nurse indicated with a small wave that Peg should come into the office and pointed to the leather armchair next to Dr. Edwards’ desk.

“Please. Have a seat. Dr. Edwards will be right with you.”

Peg did as she was told, and as soon as she was seated, the nurse left and closed the door behind her. She was just starting to take in the clutter of patients’ files, medical journals, lab reports, X-ray envelopes and “While You Were Out” messages that covered the desk, part of the floor and the top of a bookcase that ran along the wall, when the door opened and Dr. Edwards came in.

“Good afternoon,” he said, extending his hand to Peg for a gentle handshake. “I’m sorry I’m so late, but it’s been a difficult day.”

“So I gathered,” Peg replied with a small smile.

Dr. Edwards returned her smile, looked at her for a second or two longer than she would have expected, and sat down behind his desk. He rummaged through the pile of patient files stacked in the center of the desk, and when he found Peg’s, he removed the lab report clipped to the inside of the maroon folder. He looked at the report for several moments, then looked up and across the desk at Peg.

“Based on the results of your blood test,” he began slowly, “I’d like you to see another doctor. I have someone in mind, and I think I can arrange for him to see you this afternoon.”

Peg swallowed hard. “Today?”

Dr. Edwards nodded.

“What kind of doctor?”

“An oncologist,” Dr. Edwards replied, looking directly into her eyes, measuring the impact of his answer.

He waited a moment before continuing. “I think you have some form of blood cancer. I’m not an expert in this area, and I could be wrong, but your white cell count is very high, and your red cells are very small and underdeveloped. Which would explain why you’ve been so tired.”

Peg tried to swallow again, but she couldn’t. She said nothing. Questions at that moment seemed superfluous. She just sat quietly looking down at her hands in her lap, one placed flat on top of the other, and bit her lower lip. Finally, she raised her head and met Dr. Edwards’ gaze. “Okay,” she said with a weak and frightened smile.

Dr. Edwards turned to the Rolodex file on his desk and found the telephone number of a Dr. Goldstein, an out-of-group oncologist to whom he had referred patients before. He dialed the number and gave Peg a reassuring smile. She could hear the phone ringing at the other end of the line. Then it stopped.

“Yes, good afternoon. This is Dr. Edwards with North Shore Medical Group.”

A pause.

“I’m fine, thank you. I have a patient sitting here with me, a Peggy Herbert, and I’d like to make an appointment for her to see Dr. Gold-stein as soon as possible. When do you think that might be?”

There was silence on the other end as someone scanned another already overbooked appointment schedule.

“No, two weeks from today is not what I had in mind. Actually, I was hoping Dr. Goldstein could see Mrs. Herbert this afternoon.”

The person on the other end asked a question that Peg couldn’t hear.

“That’s right,” Dr. Edwards replied.

Another pause.

“I think that’ll be fine, but let me check.”

Dr. Edwards turned the mouthpiece of the receiver into his shoulder and looked across the desk at Peg. “Can you make an appointment at five-thirty tonight?”

“Yes,” Peg answered quietly.

“Yes, that’ll be fine. Mrs. Herbert will see you tonight at five-thirty.”

Another pause.

“Thank you very much for your help. I appreciate it.”

He hung up the receiver and began to write something on a prescription form. “Here’s Dr. Goldstein’s address and phone number. He’ll see you at five-thirty,” he repeated, and he handed the slip of paper to Peg. “I’ll fax your lab report over to him now so he has a chance to look at it before you get there.”

He stopped, seemingly in mid-thought.

“Call me tomorrow if you can, and let me know how you made out and if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“I will,” Peg replied, and she rose to leave. A quiet “Thank you.”

An equally quiet “Good-bye.”

And she was gone.