“Hunh?”
“Jerry. Hello. I’m Doctor Izzy Kelly, the neuro-oncologist looking into your problem. I’m sorry to wake you, but Stephanie said you’ve already been awake and alert, and although I’m sure you’d like a bit more sleep, I didn’t want to put this chat off any longer.”
“Hi.”
“How do you feel?”
“‘Stupid’ is the first word that comes to mind.”
“No need to think like that, Jerry. What happened is quite common. What we need to know is how long have you been getting these headaches, how long do they last, is there any numbness associated with the pain, and how bad do they usually get?”
“That’s a lot of questions for first thing in the A.M., Doc. Um, how bad do they get?”
“Yes. Do you often lose consciousness, vomit, or experience temporary blindness?”
“And what if I answer ‘yes’ to any or all of these questions?” The line of questioning was starting to worry him. A neurologist wouldn’t be here if the headaches were caused by nitrates in his smoked meat or caffeine in his morning brew.
“Then it gives me an idea of which direction to take with your tests.”
“You have a hunch, don’t you?”
“There’s a shadow on your x-rays that I want a closer look at, so the next thing is an MRI.”
“A shadow? There’s something in my head?”
“That’s what the MRI will help determine. There are a variety of different possibilities and not all are as serious as you’re thinking, so let’s relax, and take it all one step at a time. Now, have you had any memory problems, such as trouble with names of people or places you should absolutely know?”
“I don’t mean to be a smartass, but not that I can remember.”
“Okay. How about confusion, unexplained exhaustion, loss of sense of smell?”
“Well, I’m new to town so I’m often lost or confused; it’s a new job and I just drove three thousand miles to get here, so that probably explains my exhaustion; and when my allergies act up I couldn’t smell a dirty diaper if it was on my dinner plate.”
The neurologist laughed. “I’ve never heard it put quite that way before, but I understand what you’re saying. How are your allergies now?”
“Since I arrived on the coast, they’ve been great. Still no problems with my sniffer, though. Are these all things I should be thinking about, aware of?”
“Simply put, yes. If you or anyone close to you notices changes in any of these areas, they are certainly indicators of a possibly more serious health issue. Also, facial paralysis, double vision, and unusual mood swings. These are all things I want you to be aware of, Jerry.”
“How long am I stuck here, Doc?”
“Noon, at the latest. I’ve got a prescription for you to try, and it should keep any future pain from becoming so debilitating.”
“Thank God. Puking and passing out were fine hobbies in college but I’d like something a bit more constructive to do in my spare time now.”
“Excellent, because I’m a firm believer that a patient’s attitude can affect the speed of their healing.”
“Then call Billy Graham, cuz I’m ready to heal, Brother Izzy.”
The doctor laughed warmly. “Yes, Jerry, I do believe you are.”
TRUE TO HIS word, Dr. Kelly had Jerry discharged by noon, with the MRI scheduled for the following Wednesday. Strapped into the passenger seat of Manny’s Land Cruiser, Jerry watched the orderly push the wheelchair he’d just vacated back through the hospital’s main doors. Although it was midday, cloud-cover darkened the day, and as Manny moved the vehicle out of the pick-up zone, a light drizzle started. His headache was gone, but Jerry was still exhausted, and he suspected part of it was the fear of what the neurologist might find.
“Don’t take it personally if I doze off, Manny. I really do appreciate all you’re doing. Tell Mika I’m sorry I scared her. Just a bad headache.”
“No worries, Jerr. We’re not far from the loft but you go ahead and get some shut eye. I’ll wake you when we get there.”
“Thanks.” He closed his eyes and between the soft intermittent flap of the windshield wipers and the gentle rocking of the Land Cruiser, Jerry was soon asleep, again.
JERRY WOKE UP just as Manny turned down Broad Street, approaching the loft. He shook the drowsiness off slowly, and was ready to face the world by the time Manny parked the SUV. The rain was pounding down now and Manny made him wait while he came around to the passenger side with a black umbrella huge enough to shelter both of them and a small Fiat as well.
“Carmella would have my hide if I let you get wet and catch pneumonia, lad.”
Jerry laughed, but stayed next to Manny as they strode through the rain. “I’m sure she would. Thanks.”
Manny let Jerry lead the way up the stairs to the loft, and Jerry was hard-pressed not to run up them two at a time. He wanted to make sure he opened the door to warn Ana they had company before the company could actually catch sight of her. He fumbled with the keys to stall their entrance, but Manny was standing back a yard, leaning the closed, wet umbrella up against the balustrade of the stairway. Jerry spoke loudly enough so that Ana might hear him and clue-in that he wasn’t alone.
“So, the staff must think I’m a real girly-boy, fainting on my real first day on the new job.”
“Not at all, Jerr. We all know about headaches, especially over the holidays. The tones I heard were all concern, not mockery—even the ones they didn’t know I could hear.” He smiled mischievously.
They entered the loft and Jerry was relieved to not be greeted by a flying royal ghost. He glanced up and around, trying to search for Ana without letting Manny know he was looking for anything. He checked the ceiling while taking off his coat and hanging it up, but no Ana.
“Thanks for the lift, Manny. Can I offer you a coffee?”
“Glass o’ water’d be just fine, Jerr. Get a bit dry in winter.” Manny hung up his own coat and took a couple steps into the loft.
“This is hardly winter—no snow up to your ass.” Jerry gestured to the sink and then the fridge. “You want tap or filtered?”
“Tap is fine, lad, and I can get it myself.”
“I can get water, Man—” Jerry started around the end of the island but Manny waved him off.
“I’m sure you can, but you aren’t bloody going to. Relax. Doctor’s orders.”
“Everyone keeps telling me to ‘relax’. Really, the headache is gone. I feel great.”
“That’s nice. Now sit down before I knock you down, mate.”
Jerry chuckled, giving up the fight. “Yessir, Boss. I’ll sit my ass down. Is here okay, Boss?” He planted himself on the couch.
“Bloody kids. Do you want one, too?”
“Sure. I’m good with anything caffeine-free, or so says the doc. No ice, though, thanks.”
Manny fetched two glasses from the cupboard, let the cold tap water run for a minute and then filled the two glasses. He brought them over to the sitting area and handed Jerry one of them before lowering himself into a chair.
“Thanks.” Jerry took a distracted sip then put the glass down on a coaster. The book wasn’t where he’d left it on the coffee table. He peeked under the magazines on the table top and then checked under the table itself. When he still had no luck, he slipped off the couch and looked underneath.
“Whatcha looking for, Jerr?”
“A book I was reading this morning.” Not finding it under the couch, he sat back up, looking around, trying to think where it might be.
“I didn’t see any books in the kitchen, Jerr, but I’ll go take another look.” Manny slowly levered his lanky frame up from the chair and looked.