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...
A few days later, I'm in my doctor's office. She's tellin' me what I don't want to hear.
"It's getting bigger, Terry. It's grown since the last time we took the pre-op MRI. That's damned fast."
I was tryin' not to hyperventilate. "So, what does that mean?"
"It means that we need to try some kind of treatment. Like I said, the tumor itself is benign, but, being all wrapped up with blood vessels...:" she let her voice trail off.
"...it's inoperable," I completed as she nodded.
"I'm going to refer you to an oncologist. I think this is a little out of my league as a general practitioner. I want you to have the best."
"Okay," was all I could manage to say.
"I'll even make the appointment for you."
"Okay."
"How are the migraines?"
"With the meds, they're tolerable," I said, glad for the slight change in topic.
"How are you sleeping?"
"I still seem to be havin' some blackouts. I go to sleep in my bed, but wake up on the couch."
"Hmm... yes, you could be sleepwalking, as I've said before. For some reason, you don't want to stay in bed. So, how comfortable is your bed in comparison to the couch?"
"Oh, the bed is way more comfortable. I've got one of those foam mattresses. The couch isn't bad, it's just not where I prefer to sleep."
"Have you noticed that you've hurt yourself while sleepwalking, or have you done anything disturbing?"
I lied through my teeth. "No, not at all."
"Alright. It sounds like there's not a lot to do there. Certainly, the tumor pressing on a part of your brain might cause that. What about personality? Have you noticed that changing? Like, you're angry all the time or you're depressed for no reason?"
Again, I lied. "No, nothin'. I seem to be the same person I've always been. Just a country kid livin' as a cop in a big city."
She smiled. "Okay, well, let me have the receptionist get you that appointment. So, hang out for a few minutes?"
"Will do."
It took about fifteen minutes to make an appointment with the next doctor in the mix. I would be goin' to see him in two days.
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The new doctor's office was well appointed. The chairs were comfortable and the art was nice. Soft, relaxin' music played and, in one corner, there was one of those little meditation water art thingies that always made you need to pee. Fortunately, there was also a bathroom.
The oncologist was much younger than me, which was just fine, as long as he was good at what he did. There was a folder on his desk of what I would assume was my file. Along one wall, he had a panel of x-ray light boxes and a large flat screen. The chairs were also comfy here.
