Free The Good Doctor by Karen Rose Smith Page A

treatment.”
    â€œTreatment like strange drugs and chemotherapy?” Ryan looked aghast.
    â€œPossibly. Maybe radiation. There are many programs. I’m sure I can find something.”
    But before Peter was able to finish talking, Ryan was shaking his head. “No. None of that stuff. I don’t want to be sicker, not before I have to be.”
    Peter knew the diagnosis was a shock and Ryan had to come to terms with everything that it implied. He could see Violet was in shock, too. She blinked rapidly, and he guessed she was holding back tears.
    Dr. Grimaldi offered, “Peter’s right about experimental treatment. If you want to search it out, I’m sure you can find it. I’ll cooperate with anyone who needs records or results of the MRI. Just call me and let me know. You’re going to need a physician close by in Red Rock—”
    â€œNo.” Ryan’s tone was adamant. “I’m not running to a doctor when nothing can be done, and certainly not before I tell anybody about this. I don’t know when I’m going to do that.”
    â€œYou should tell Lily,” Peter advised somberly.
    â€œNot yet. Not now. I have to think about all of it.” Then Ryan stood and went to the door. “Send the bill for all this to Peter’s office. I’ll see that he gets the money.” Then he was leaving and Violet was hurrying after him.
    When Peter turned to Grimaldi, he saw sadness there. “We save patients lives, too,” Peter reminded him as if he knew the doctor needed to hear it.
    â€œThat’s no consolation to Ryan Fortune.”
    â€œNo, it’s not, but it might be some to you. The only way we can do this day after day is to remember the hope. I intend to give Ryan some hope. I’ll find an experimental program and get him into it.”
    â€œGood luck,” Grimaldi said. “You’re going to need it because he’s a stubborn man. It only takes five minutes with him to know he’s going to do what he’s going to do, no matter what anyone says.”
    â€œThat’s true. But after he thinks about this for a few days, I’m betting he’ll choose hope over certain death.”
    Peter and Frank shook hands and slapped each other on the back.
    â€œLet me know what he decides. Call me any time.”
    After a nod, Peter left the office. As he walked toward the reception area, he knew he was going to have to gather information quickly and present it to Ryan in a way he couldn’t refuse. An experimental program might not save his life, but it could prolong it. Peter wanted Ryan to have countless days left, not just three to six months. But Ryan had to want that, too.
    Â 
    Peter made a stop on the return trip to the motel for Chinese takeout. He sensed Violet wanted to spend some timealone with Ryan. While they sat in the car, he went into the restaurant for the food.
    In Ryan’s room a half hour later, Peter wished he could give Ryan a good bottle of bourbon. But with a brain tumor, alcohol could trigger a seizure. At the table by the window, Violet worked at opening the take-out containers. The aromas of beef and broccoli, chicken lo mein, and Moo Goo Gai Pan filled the room. None of them was hungry, but he and Violet picked at their food in hopes that Ryan would eat, too. To their surprise, he did, but he also stared out the window and didn’t have much to say. Peter knew the diagnosis was still unreal to him and it would take a while to absorb.
    Out of the blue, Ryan said almost angrily, “Don’t think I’m going to lie down and wait for this to happen. I have lots to do. Until I say so, no one breathes a word about this. Understood?”
    â€œUnderstood,” Peter and Violet both said in unison, though neither of them agreed.
    â€œI want to get out of here early tomorrow,” Ryan decided. “Can we leave by eight?”
    â€œEight’s good,” Peter agreed. “I