Read A Celtic Knot Online

Authors: Ana Corman

A Celtic Knot (3 page)

BOOK: A Celtic Knot
7.18Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“Ladies and gentlemen, I think we’re ready to begin.”

The hum of voices stopped and everyone settled into a seat.

“I’m Dr. Olivia Carrington, and I’d like to thank you all for attending my lecture today on complementary therapies. I’m flattered to see such a large crowd but I hope you all weren’t expecting to get a free massage today.”

Everyone laughed.

“A complementary therapy is any therapy that complements the mainstream medical care for breast cancer. I believe that the human mind is a powerful healer and any therapy a woman chooses that will help to infuse her body with that healing power is a wonderful thing. We as women need to feel in control of our own bodies and our ability to overcome any illness. From acupuncture to massage therapy, aromatherapy to prayer, complementary therapies can strengthen our immune systems, treat symptoms, and improve our quality of life. Many women have stated that these therapies make them feel better and stronger.”

Catherine settled back into her seat and listened intently as Olivia articulately went on to describe each different therapy and its benefits, moving about the stage and using computer images to keep the crowd’s rapt attention.

“Women diagnosed with breast cancer endure so much during their treatment regime of surgery, radiation, and or chemotherapy,” she concluded. “If any of these complementary therapies help to comfort you physically, emotionally, and mentally then I’m all for it. It’s your own personal decision as to what may work for you. I feel it’s important that women know that these therapies are available to them. I’d like to now turn the microphones over to you and try to answer any questions you may have.”

The lights came on in the amphitheater, Olivia easily answered several questions and had the crowd laughing at her responses.

Catherine raised her hand and saw a man in the aisle pass her a microphone. He signaled for her to stand when it was her turn. As her eyes met Olivia’s, she felt an uncomfortable tightening in her belly.

“You have a question for me, Catherine O’Grady?”

“I do. I thought your lecture was excellent, but you focused on complementary therapies and never mentioned alternative therapies. I’m just wondering why.”

“That’s an excellent question, Catherine. I didn’t mention alternative therapies because there’s a huge difference between alternative therapy and complementary therapy, when often those terms are used interchangeably. Alternative therapies are used instead of our conventional Western medical treatment. Examples of that are drugs that are illegal in the United States and commonly experimented with in other countries. Nothing has been proven with their use. They have not been studied scientifically and the risks and complications are unknown. Another example of alternative medicine is choosing to use a special diet rather than the surgery, radiation, or chemotherapy that we would prescribe in our practice.

“The huge problem is that women are led to believe in these alternative therapies and they have not proven to cure cancer or cause remission. They only delay the medical treatment that you need to receive.”

“So, because alternative therapies go completely against your conventional Western-medicine upbringing you decide not to discuss them in your lecture?”

A low hum enveloped the room as Olivia took several steps across the stage.

“I won’t apologize for my education and subsequently my beliefs in the strength and success of our mainstream medical care. I’ve operated on hundreds of women and seen them succeed with radiation and chemotherapy. No other therapy can offer that kind of success, and successful therapy is what we strive for.”

“I’m not asking for your apologies, Dr. Carrington. We as women are only asking for all the information available to us. We’ll make our own informed consent. You have to have more faith in us to know that for the most part we’ll weed through what’s right and wrong and make the decisions that are right for us.”

The silence was deafening as Catherine handed back the microphone. The applause in the room started slowly and built to a steady beat. Catherine took her seat as her mother took her hand and squeezed it tight. From the stage, Olivia gave her a piercing look that unsettled her. Olivia was clearly angry, but there was something else in the look that Catherine couldn’t interpret.

“Point taken. Some types of complementary or alternative therapies may interfere or be harmful when used with a treatment regime already prescribed by your conventional Western medicine doctor. I just ask that before you decide to use any of these therapies, please speak to your doctor so you can discuss the possible risks and benefits. Also check with your insurance company to see which of these therapies are covered. Are there any other questions?”

Olivia answered questions for another twenty minutes before she ended the lecture. Everyone gave her a standing ovation before they began to file slowly out of the amphitheater.

Catherine sat stiffly in her chair.

“Are you okay?” Dana asked.

“I’m okay. I believe that Olivia has now officially taken me off her Christmas card list.”

Dana laughed. “Why don’t you go talk to her?”

Catherine stared at her mother. “Are you kidding? I don’t think Dr. Olivia Carrington wants to hear another word from me.”

Dana smiled. “I know you, darling. You’re going to beat yourself up till you make peace between you and Olivia. If you do want to talk to her, I wouldn’t mind going up to the fifth floor to visit with one of Ruth’s patients. She had a lump removed yesterday. I wouldn’t be long. I’d just like to make sure she has everything she needs.”

Catherine closed her eyes. She could at least give her mother the time she needed to support another woman going through surgery. It had been a long time since Dana talked about the women she visited. Catherine could show her how proud she was of her.

“You should do that, Mom. You can call me on your cell phone when you’re done. We can meet in the front foyer of the hospital.”

Dana leaned in close and kissed her daughter’s cheek. “Thank you, sweetheart. I’ll see you in a little while.”

Catherine watched her mother make her way along the aisle and climb down the steps. A group of women walked off the stage after talking to Olivia. The two who remained—one of them pregnant—stood intimately close to her as they talked together, then hugged her before leaving the stage. Catherine recognized them as customers she’d seen in Cocoa Cream and was intrigued by their closeness with Olivia. She rose from her seat. “It’s now or never,” she told herself.

Catherine made her way toward the stage as Olivia gathered her equipment. She found the stairs along the wing and slowly climbed them.

She stood close by and watched Olivia wind the electrical cord and place it on the bottom of her cart. The amphitheater felt cold and hollow. “We’re the only ones left behind, Dr. Carrington. Please feel free to tell me why my question infuriated you so much.”

Olivia stayed with her back to Catherine and removed her jacket. She carefully draped it across the metal cart and slowly turned to face her. “Alternative therapy is a very touchy subject with me, Catherine, as you may have noticed. I don’t believe in it and I don’t want women to waste their time looking into it. I want them to spend what energy they have on positive therapies that complement their medical treatment. Not hinder the best care they can get.”

“I agree with you, but I also feel we have a right to investigate all the treatments available. When my mother was first diagnosed, we read every piece of literature we could get our hands on. With Dr. Ratcliff’s help, we made the best decisions we could for her treatment. We felt comfortable with our plan because we’d exhausted all the information at our disposal. We felt in control of her healing process. You can’t hold back information from women because of your own personal beliefs, Dr. Carrington. That will only leave them resentful and distrusting of your motives.”

Olivia took a step toward Catherine. “I offer my patients a book of information on all the complementary therapies I presented today. I give them safe, proven information and let them integrate anything that works for them. I support their choices when I know it’ll help their treatment regime.” Olivia shoved her hands into her pockets. “Why do I have the feeling this has so much more to do with your mother’s appointment this afternoon than my presentation? I know you were angry with me, Catherine, but I’m surprised you tried to embarrass me in front of my audience.”

“My question had nothing to do with embarrassing you in front of your audience, Dr. Carrington, or about my mother’s appointment. I would’ve thought you had stronger self-esteem than that. My question had nothing to do with you at all. It’s purely about access to information. My mother feels comfortable spending time with women who are newly diagnosed. I don’t. I have a difficult time with their fear and anguish. But I own a bookstore, and I make sure the shelves are stocked with all the current literature about breast cancer. I may sound cowardly to you compared to my mother, but that’s where I feel I can help. It’s my comfort zone.”

“That’s hardly cowardly, Catherine. That’s very admirable and a huge contribution to what women need when they’re diagnosed.” She moved closer. “But why would you even consider alternative therapies?”

Catherine took a deep breath. She felt hesitant to talk about this with Olivia, and yet somehow she needed to. “I looked into alternative therapy because I’m scared. My family history has me terrified. My father died three months after he was diagnosed with stomach cancer.”

“I read that in your mothers chart. I’m so sorry.”

Catherine looked away from that expression of pure compassion. “Your traditional Western medicine has worked wonderfully for my mother but nothing worked for my father. Western medicine only intensified his pain and made his last months with us excruciating. We did that to him. I have every right to want to know about alternative therapies.” Catherine fought back her tears. “When my father died, I was so angry and grief stricken that I lost faith in your wonderful Western medicine. Why can’t we find a cure for cancer, Olivia? We pour money into prevention, early detection, treatment, and research and yet people are still dying.”

“I’m not the enemy, Catherine.”

“I know that, Olivia. But in our stressed-out, agonized minds you’re the only enemy we can see. We can’t see the cancer but we can see the people who put us through so much grief and pain.”

“I’m on your side, Catherine. I pour my energy into fighting this disease with proven methods. I have to have faith in the people who are devoting their lives to finding the answers to questions that haven’t been answered yet. The world is engaged in this fight against cancer. You have to believe in what has been proven by the numbers of successful cases. Your mother is a perfect example of that. I’m just sorry there couldn’t have been more to offer your father.”

“I’m sorry, too. He was an amazing man and an incredible father. His life was wonderful and his death was horrible. What if I’m next, Olivia? Will Western medicine fail me, too?” Before Olivia could answer, Catherine’s cell phone rang. She wiped at her eyes and looked at the display. “My mother’s waiting for me. I have to go.”

As she turned for the stairs, Olivia reached for her arm. “I’m sorry you’re upset, Catherine. I’m just beginning to understand why. If there’s anything I can do for you, any way I can help ease your fear, I wish you’d let me know.”

“These are my issues to deal with. Unfortunately, they just keep rearing their ugly heads. Goodbye, Olivia. Thank you for being so kind to my mother today.”

Four

D
ANA CAREFULLY REACHED
through the bed of pruned rosebushes and pulled out her
San Diego Union-Tribune.
She slapped it hard against her thigh several times, then stepped back to admire the row of rosebushes running along the deep front porch. They were her pride and joy. She loved gardening and watching things grow. She could plant things with total abandon and the disorder always bred beauty. Bright green shoots had already pushed their way up in the flowerbeds bordering the walkway leading to the house, a sure sign that spring was on its way. Soon they’d be laden with yellow freesias and daylilies, divided by groups of white daffodils and grape hyacinths. The massive jacaranda tree in the front yard would not bloom its gorgeous lavender flowers till June. Dana couldn’t wait for that yearly event.

She remembered the day the previous owners had contacted her to sell this wonderful house. As she’d strolled up the walkway, she knew she had come home. It was a spiritual connection. The location was perfect, just north of Balboa Park. She and Aidan moved in and Catherine was born a year later. Dana loved its old-world charm and mystique. It was a solid brick bungalow built in 1925, with stone pillars and sloped roofs. It had been a financial stretch at the time, as she began her real estate career and Aidan was struggling to get his accounting firm off the ground. But it was worth all the penny-pinching in those early years. They’d chosen to make renovations instead of moving into something bigger when finances were on more solid ground. Dana was so grateful they stayed.

It was getting dusky and Dana felt a slight chill with the cool breeze. It had been overcast and dreary all week but today had been a beautiful bright day in the high sixties. A glorious day for late February in San Diego. Dana tucked the newspaper under her arm, unlocked the front door, and set her mail and paper on the hall table among the stacks of magazines. She needed to tidy up that mess. She could hear Aidan chastising her for her collection of magazines that she could never get rid of. It extended to her stack of cookbooks in the kitchen and scrap-booking supplies in the spare bedroom. Catherine threatened to call the fire department and report her mother as a fire hazard. She shook her head and laughed. One of these days she would make Catherine proud. Thank God her daughter was a neat freak and meticulously organized like her father.

BOOK: A Celtic Knot
7.18Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Gayle Buck by Hearts Betrayed
A Night With Knox by Eve Jagger
2007-Eleven by Frank Cammuso
The Envoy by Ros Baxter
The Witch's Daughter by R. A. Salvatore
Stonehenge by Rosemary Hill
Cheryl Reavis by The Bartered Bride
KanesBounty by A.S. Fenichel
Rocketship Patrol by Greco, J.I.