"*Kevin*" he corrected her, sinking into the proffered seat.

"And my friends call me *Beth*," she added. "May I get you some coffee?"

"Oh, God, no," he laughed. "I've had enough caffeine in the past two days to last me a lifetime."

"Then I'll come straight to the point." Pulling out a file he presumed to be Chrissy's, she continued. "What do you know about Chrissy's condition, Kevin?"

"Not much. Only what Morgan has shared with me, and it was like pulling teeth to get *that* out of her."

Beth laughed. "She does tend toward the dramatic, doesn't she?" Sobering, she rubbed her temples. It was never easy discussing patients with their loved ones, and even though she knew there was no formal relationship between Kevin and Chrissy, she knew there was a deep bond between them. And she intended to use that to Chrissy's advantage.

"You need to know that ... that ..." Kevin paused for breath. "I lost my dad to cancer several years ago, so I understand more than I'd like to about this disease."

"Good. I mean, I'm sorry for your loss, but your experience will be an asset in Chrissy's continuing treatment."

"Treatment? But I thought she-"

"So does *she*. She might have refused further treatment, Kevin, but that doesn't mean that we can't change her mind."

"*We*?" His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "She threw me out of her room just a few minutes ago, I doubt she'll have much of anything to do with me."

Waving her hand in dismissal, she said, "I know, I heard the entire conversation. I apologize for eavesdropping, but I was on my way in to see her when you arrived. I planned on introducing myself then, but there never seemed to be a good time to interrupt."

"So what is you think I can do?" Kevin leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Convince her to have the surgery."

"Are you out of your mind?!" He leaped to his feet.

"No, I'm her doctor and this is one patient I don't intend to lose. We're running out of time, Kevin. Surgery is our only option, but if we don't move forward soon, she will die."

"How long?" he asked quietly.

"It's difficult to say. A month or two ... six months at the most." She watched him pale as she delivered his best friend's death sentence. "I know it hurts, but you have to know what we're up against. The chemo and radiation have kept the cancer somewhat at bay, but now that she's refused further treatment, there will be a rapid advance. We *have* to operate before it spreads any further."

"Why can't you just remove the tumor?"

"It's not that easy in Chrissy's case. Here, look." Crossing to the light bay on the far wall, she placed Chrissy's most recent x-rays on the hook. "See? It's not a solid mass. If it *were* it would be a simple procedure. This type of tumor is thready; it reaches out tendrils into the surrounding tissue. If we miss even one small bit ..."

"Then it recurs. Damn."

She nodded her head in agreement. "So? Will you help?"

"What do you want me to do?"