(3rd Person P. O. V)
The phone rang as Nate was finishing up his work. He glanced at the caller ID and saw that it was his doctor. He hesitated for a moment, then answered.
“Hello, Doctor,”
“Nate, I’m glad I caught you.”
“I just got your test results back, and I’d like you to come in for a follow-up visit as soon as possible. Can you and your wife come in tomorrow morning?”
Nate’s heart sank. He knew test results were never good news, but he tried to keep his composure.
“Sure, Doctor,”
“We’ll be there at 10.”
“Okay, I will book your appointment for 10.”
The next morning, Nate and his wife Arabella sat nervously in the waiting room of the doctor’s office. They had been trying to conceive a child for months but had been unsuccessful so far. Nate had hoped that the test results would shed some light on the issue, but now he was worried that it was something much more serious.
Finally, the doctor called them in. He looked serious as he sat down at his desk and pulled up Nate’s file on his computer.
“I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Nate, but the results of your tests show that you have penile cancer,” the doctor said.
Nate felt like the air had been knocked out of him. Cancer? He had never even considered the possibility. He looked over at Arabella, who was staring at the doctor with wide eyes.
“I’m afraid it’s quite advanced.”
“We’ll need to start treatment right away. I’m sorry to say that it’s likely that you will become infertile because of the treatment.”
Nate felt like the ground was falling away beneath him. He had always wanted to have children and the thought of never being able to be devastating. He looked at Arabella, who was now openly crying.
The doctor gave them some information about treatment options and made an appointment for Nate to see an oncologist. They talked with the doctor for some time, book an appointment with the oncologist, and drove home.
As they made their way home, neither of them spoke a word. The silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the distant hum of passing cars and the occasional honk of a horn. They were lost in their own thoughts. Not knowing how to comfort the other person, they stayed quiet. They stared out the window at the passing scenery, barely registering the sights and sounds of the surrounding city.
As soon as they arrived home, Arabella run inside the house leaving Nate alone with his thoughts. The doctor’s words echoed in Nate’s mind as he sat in his car, trying to process the news. He had always assumed that his inability to have children was because of a low sperm count. He never imagined that he could have cancer down there.
Nate had lost his parents in a car accident when he was just 10 years old. The court sent him to live in a children’s care center, where he saw firsthand how happy his peers were when the loving couples adopted them. He had always dreamed of having a family of his own. Now he wasn’t sure if that would ever be possible.
Nate took a deep breath and stepped into the living room. Arabella was sitting on the couch with her head in her hands. Without a word, he walked over and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. She stiffened for a moment, then relaxed into his embrace, burying her face in his chest.
“It’s going to be okay.”
“We’ll get through this together.”
Arabella nodded, her breath hitching. She didn’t want to worry him with her own fears and anxieties, but she couldn’t help but feel a sense of overwhelming sadness and despair. She had always dreamed of starting a family with Nate, but now that seemed like an impossible dream.
They stayed like that for a few minutes, both lost in their own thoughts and emotions. But as they pulled away from each other, something shifted between them. The tension was palpable, and they both knew that things wouldn’t be the same again.
In the days that followed, they tried their best to act normal, but the distance between them was clear. They went about their daily routine, but there was a heavy cloud of sadness and uncertainty hanging over them, until the day to visit the oncologist.
Nate and Arabella got into the car and silently buckled up their seatbelts. Nate started the engine, and they pulled out of the driveway. The atmosphere inside the car was heavy with unspoken tension. They both knew what lay ahead of them.
The drive to the oncologist was long and silent. Nate’s mind was racing with a million thoughts, but he didn’t say a word. He kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his knuckles turning white from gripping the steering wheel too tightly. Arabella stared out of the window, lost in her own thoughts.
After what felt like an eternity, they finally arrived at the oncologist’s office. Nate parked the car, and they got out, walking towards the entrance. The receptionist greeted them with a warm smile and asked them for the name they had booked their appointment.
“Dr. Matthews,” Nate said.
The receptionist typed something into the computer and then looked back up at them.
“Dr. Matthews is in his office. Go down the hallway to the right and it’s the third door on the left.”
Nate nodded, and they followed the receptionist’s instructions, making their way down the hallway. They passed by several doors before finally arriving at the third one on the left. Nate hesitated for a moment before finally knocking softly on the door.
“Come in,” a voice called from inside.
Nate turned the knob and opened the door, holding it open for Arabella. They stepped inside and saw a man in his late forties, with graying hair and a serious expression. Dr. Matthews stood up from his desk and shook their hands.
“Good morning, Nate and Arabella. Please have a seat,” he said, gesturing towards the two chairs in front of his desk.
“Dr. Petterson, had mentioned that you have Penial cancer, have you brought your test result with you?” the doctor asked and Nate passed him the file that he had brought with him. The doctor didn’t even have fully gone through the reports first when Arabella showered her with her questions.
“Doctor, how the server is? Which stage is he in right now? It can be treated, right? Nothing is going to happen to him, right?”
Nate squeezes her knees, signaling her to calm down.
“Miss Nara, we will only be able to talk about it when performing other tests on him,”
“Doctor, Will cancer or the treatment have any effect on my sperm production or my ability to become a father?”
Nate asked, seeing the doctor answer his wife’s questions calmly.
The doctor paused for a moment and looked at Nate with a serious expression.
“Yes, it’s possible,”
“Radiation therapy and chemotherapy, which may treat penile cancer, can affect sperm production and fertility.”
Nate’s heart sank at the news. He had always dreamed of having children someday, and the thought of losing that possibility was devastating.
“But there are options to preserve your fertility before starting treatment,” the doctor said, noticing Nate’s distress.
“Sperm banking is one option we can discuss with you. It allows you to store your sperm for future use in case the treatment affects your fertility.”
Upon learning of the available choices, Nate felt a wave of relief.
“Thank you, doctor. That’s a relief to hear,” he said, feeling a little more hopeful.
“But won’t it affect my future children?” Nate asked.
“Sorry, I don’t think I get your question?”
“I was wondering if it’s possible for my children to get cancer if they use the sperm that we’ve collected before treating my penile cancer?”
The doctor looked at Nate with a thoughtful expression before responding.
“It’s understandable to have concerns about the potential risks to your future children. However, studies have shown that the risk of cancer transmission through sperm is very low, almost negligible.”
“We will also perform some tests on your sperm before storing it to make sure it will not affect your children,”
Nate visibly relaxed at the doctor’s answer. “That’s a relief to hear.”
“And after the treatment, will I still be able to father children?”
“That will depend on several factors,”
“But it is possible to father children after treatment, and we can discuss your options further with a fertility specialist.”
Nate nodded, feeling a little more reassured.
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