My name is Terry Smith. That's Detective to you, if you're an ass... and, today, I probably think you are, so hedge your bets. You see, my partner and I have been assigned a case that I feel is Batman Hell and I am forced to be a very poor Bruce Way...
I got a call the next day from my doctor, askin' me to come in. My stomach flip-flopped, just like it had before. She could fit me in that afternoon and so I made my way over there at the appointed time.
"Terry," she said as I came into the room. She didn't seem happy or sad, so I couldn't get a feel for whether or not she had good news or bad.
"So, what's the verdict, doc?"
"Well, the good news is that the tumor is benign."
I breathed a sigh of relief. But, then I caught what she had said, "And the bad news?"
"It seems to be inoperable. It's wrapped around some major blood vessels and my friend said that it was too risky to try."
I let it sink in for a moment. "So what does that mean?"
"Well, there are other treatments we can try to shrink the tumor. We can use radiotherapy or chemotherapy, though, the latter is unusual for a benign tumor. Or, we can monitor it and see if it grows before we make a decision, as long as you're not having any problems."
"Well, other than the migraines and sleepwalkin', I don't think I am," I lied. I mean, what was I goin' to say, "Hey, I have an alternate personality?"
"We can prescribe something for the migraines. And, you'll learn what to look for when they start to set in, so you can take it early and hopefully prevent them. As far as the sleepwalking, we can try and anticonvulsant, but these are also listed as drugs for bipolar."
"I can't be on those and be a cop, so it sounds like that's out."
"Okay. So you want to monitor it before we make any decision about more aggressive treatment?"
"Yeah, let's do that."
"Sounds good. We'll do MRIs once a month for the first six months and see what we have before we decide anything else," she agreed. "Now, let's take those stitches out."
Once I was back home, it all kind of hit me and I sat on the couch and cried. It felt good to let go of some of the tension, but I was glad that I was alone.
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By the time Monday rolled around I was ready to go back to work. Havin' some time off was nice, but I was gettin' a little bored with just TV and a robot kit. I'd finished up the pain meds on Friday and would finally be getting my car back.
Danny came and picked me up, treated me to Starbucks, and was generally annoyingly nice.
"Look, you don't have to deal with me with gloves on," I finally said.
"Sorry. I'll try to be my ordinary asshole self," Danny said, chuckling.
"Well, I didn't say that. You just don't have to be so careful." I'd told him what the doctor had said and what we had decided to do.
Apparently, word had gotten around about the procedure because there were lots of "hole in the head" jokes, which were only funny when the doctor had told them the first time. Still, the teasin' showed that they cared and I smiled and laughed anyway.
