Making this decision hadn’t been easy for her. For a long time, she’d intentionally avoided confronting the idea of treatment, pushing it to the back of her mind.
But now, she finally had a clearer goal—and a choice.
A choice she could no longer avoid.
It took the doctor quite a while to respond:
[Ms. Thorne, given your current health, you’ll need a detailed treatment plan. Preoperative chemotherapy is essential. Still, I hope you’ll take time to think this through.]
Elodie stared at the doctor’s message, silent.
He’d said that aside from the necessary surgery, a more conservative approach was possible. It would be slower than a complete removal, and her condition would be highly unstable. But the one upside was that it could temporarily preserve her fertility.
Elodie drew a slow, steady breath. She’d already considered all of this.
If she stretched out the treatment, the outcome still wasn’t guaranteed. She might endure all the pain, only to end up right where she started.
She wasn’t willing to gamble everything on an uncertain outcome.
After a long, pensive silence, Elodie made up her mind.
[It’s alright. Let’s start with the preoperative therapy. Please go ahead and schedule the surgery.]
Better to make a decisive choice than to waste day after day in fear.
She was nothing if not determined.
The doctor replied:
[The surgery can only be scheduled after you’ve completed three rounds of chemotherapy. Each round will be three weeks apart; once that’s done, we’ll arrange the operation.]
Elodie did the math in her head.
It worked out fine.
Her defense project was set for the latter half of the year. Three rounds of chemo, each just three weeks apart—plus time for post-op recovery.
It was manageable.
With her decision made, Elodie finally felt she could breathe again.
She sent Charlie a quick message:
Freya grinned, sliding a yogurt parfait across the table to her. “Not at all. I just wanted to get here early and order for us—save some time.”
Elodie genuinely liked Freya. She was sweet, thoughtful, and always considerate.
“Have you decided on a major yet?” Elodie asked.
Freya nodded eagerly. “I want to work with drones or aircraft someday. Do you have any advice?”
Elodie considered it for a moment, her tone calm and thoughtful. “There are a lot of paths—there’s aerospace, of course, but also mechanical engineering, materials science, even computer science. It depends if you’re more interested in manufacturing and design, or if you want to work on aircraft systems themselves.”
Freya’s eyes sparkled. “What did you study in college, Elodie?”
Elodie glanced up, then offered a gentle smile. “I majored in physics.”
Freya blinked in surprise, then lit up. “Wait, you have a double degree?”
Elodie didn’t deny it.
She really did—physics as her major, with a second degree in aerospace engineering.
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