“Oh, my God,” Greta moaned. “You are such a drama queen. You’re not even close to death anymore.”
“You better be glad I can’t see shit, Greta,” he growled.
Greta stuck her tongue out at him and flipped him off. “I’m flipping you off, so you can sit and spin.”
“Uh, hello?” Dr. Gus had perfect timing. He stepped into the room and looked around. “I don’t think I have ever seen this many people in one of these rooms even when there's an emergency.”
“I’ve got a big family, doctor,” Easy explained.
“He’s not kidding. This is only a quarter of it,” Greta called.
“Uh, well, okay,” Dr. Gus shrugged. “Let’s look you over and see how things are going.”
Dr. Gus examined Easy and looked over his chart on the computer. “I think we need to get you in for another MRI before you leave. I want to see exactly what is going on inside your head.”
“Don’t we all,” Greta muttered.
Gwen glared at Greta and motioned for her to zip her lips.
“Did you get the results back from the biopsy?” Gwen asked.
“Yes. They came in this morning.”
Everyone froze. I could hear Greta breathing next to me, and I clenched my teeth.
Oh, God.
I had known the results should be coming back, but I hadn’t been mentally prepared.
Easy was about to get the answer he had been asking for.
Cancer or benign?
“The tumor came back as benign. You will need to get scans for a little while, but it’s rare for a benign tumor to come back. I do want you to have an MRI before you leave just so I can see how things are looking in there.” Dr. Gus stuck his pen in his pocket and nodded. “Any questions?”
Easy’s mouth opened, but no words came out.
“I think you just gave him the answer he was looking for,” Greta whispered.
Dr. Gus headed to the computer, where he put in the order for the MRI and headed to his next patient.
“Holy shit,” Gwen cried.
Gambler pumped his fist in the air and patted Easy’s leg. “Fucking benign,” he cheered. “I fucking knew it.”
“I’m glad he said benign, but couldn’t he have tried to be happy,” Greta grumbled. “Though he didn’t really say much.”
“I think the audience he had was a bit intimidating,” Bear pointed out.
“And I don’t care if he was happy or not,” Easy interrupted. “I don’t have cancer.” He closed his eyes and dropped his chin to his chest.
“He could have also told you when you are going to be discharged,” Gambler added.
“I think that is all going to depend on what he sees in the MRI,” I explained.
"If he says I have to stay for another week, I won’t care.” Easy patted his leg and smiled wide. “I don’t have fucking cancer.”
I was so happy for Easy. Everyone in the room was. This was exactly the news he needed to hear.
