enough to
let them know what was going on, but stopped short of showing any compassion or
any interest beyond his medical ministrations.
Dr. Kerry was always on
about “detachment”–don’t get involved sort of thing–but I could not see myself
being cold or “detached” toward a mother who’s just lost her son or daughter to
a disease. I would be right there holding the box of Kleenex for her, while
Jeff would hold the door open, waiting for her to leave. His egotism, I felt,
was jousting against callousness for first place in the ranks of questionable
behaviors on the part of a medical practitioner.
While I was churning all
sorts of dark thoughts about Jeff’s demeanor, Dr. Slosberg came in our lounge
room on the fifth floor. Dr. Kerry looked slightly surprised. She probably expected
for us to go down to the dungeon to meet the great man.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Slosberg,
you didn’t have to come all the way up here. Are we late?” She looked down at
her watch.
“No-no, Kerry. You’re not
late; I am early,” Slosberg answered, a broad smile on his lips. “I thought of
coming up since our first patient is on the fourth floor.” He paused and pulled
up a chair near our tables. “I wanted to describe what happened to the lady,
before we pay her a visit.” Everyone nodded. “You see, there was nothing wrong
as far as Mrs. Termini was concerned. She felt a bit light-headed from time to
time and, as any respectable Italian woman would, she would put it down to the
diet she was trying to follow. In short, she felt she wasn’t eating enough.
However, that excuse didn’t stand any ground when she collapsed in front of her
grocer. The man called the ambulance immediately, and she was soon assigned to
me. When she woke up, she had lost all memory of the incident. She couldn’t
remember her name, which year this is, or anything about the family members
that were surrounding her bed by then.” He stopped and turned to Dr. Kerry. “Do
you mind getting me a glass of water?”
“No-no, of course not.
Would you like a coffee instead?” she replied, already up and going to the
counter.
As soon as Slosberg drank
a large gulp of water, he continued recounting Mrs. Termini’s tale of woes.
“You see, we learn about dementia, about Alzheimer’s, and all of the many
diseases affecting our brains, but we seldom pay much attention to the causes
associated with such diseases. Although Mrs. Termini didn’t suffer from
Alzheimer, dementia, or even from temporary amnesia, I was keen to find out why
she suddenly lost her memory. Two days after her admission, she seemed to
remember everything that happened in the last 48 hours, but nothing of the
events that happened before that.
“To make a long story
short, as you will read in her chart, she had a small lesion in the
hippocampus, which is, as you know, one portion of the brain that controls memory
retention. It transfers short to long-term memories. Although insignificant in
the grand-scheme of things, like the old spark plug in your car, without it,
your brain would simply be an elegant way to enclose scrambled eggs into your
skull.
“After an operation that
only lasted a half-an-hour, I was able to remove the lesion and have her back
to her old-self within a matter of hours.”
“Could you tell us how
the lesion appeared?” Gerald asked. “Was it as a result of a trauma?”
“No, Doctor. The lesion seemed
to have been the result of an external damage which she sustained many years
ago.”
“And it only showed up
now?” Tiffany sounded puzzled.
“Like any cancerous
lesion, an intracranial lesion takes time to grow. The brain is not a
particularly friendly place for a tumor. A liver, lung, or even kidney makes
for a better environment for any lesion to develop.”
“And it must be harder to
prevent such a cancer from occurring than it is any other, one has to suppose,”
Dr. Kerry said.
“Exactly. We can tell
people not to smoke in order to prevent them
let them know what was going on, but stopped short of showing any compassion or
any interest beyond his medical ministrations.
Dr. Kerry was always on
about “detachment”–don’t get involved sort of thing–but I could not see myself
being cold or “detached” toward a mother who’s just lost her son or daughter to
a disease. I would be right there holding the box of Kleenex for her, while
Jeff would hold the door open, waiting for her to leave. His egotism, I felt,
was jousting against callousness for first place in the ranks of questionable
behaviors on the part of a medical practitioner.
While I was churning all
sorts of dark thoughts about Jeff’s demeanor, Dr. Slosberg came in our lounge
room on the fifth floor. Dr. Kerry looked slightly surprised. She probably expected
for us to go down to the dungeon to meet the great man.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Slosberg,
you didn’t have to come all the way up here. Are we late?” She looked down at
her watch.
“No-no, Kerry. You’re not
late; I am early,” Slosberg answered, a broad smile on his lips. “I thought of
coming up since our first patient is on the fourth floor.” He paused and pulled
up a chair near our tables. “I wanted to describe what happened to the lady,
before we pay her a visit.” Everyone nodded. “You see, there was nothing wrong
as far as Mrs. Termini was concerned. She felt a bit light-headed from time to
time and, as any respectable Italian woman would, she would put it down to the
diet she was trying to follow. In short, she felt she wasn’t eating enough.
However, that excuse didn’t stand any ground when she collapsed in front of her
grocer. The man called the ambulance immediately, and she was soon assigned to
me. When she woke up, she had lost all memory of the incident. She couldn’t
remember her name, which year this is, or anything about the family members
that were surrounding her bed by then.” He stopped and turned to Dr. Kerry. “Do
you mind getting me a glass of water?”
“No-no, of course not.
Would you like a coffee instead?” she replied, already up and going to the
counter.
As soon as Slosberg drank
a large gulp of water, he continued recounting Mrs. Termini’s tale of woes.
“You see, we learn about dementia, about Alzheimer’s, and all of the many
diseases affecting our brains, but we seldom pay much attention to the causes
associated with such diseases. Although Mrs. Termini didn’t suffer from
Alzheimer, dementia, or even from temporary amnesia, I was keen to find out why
she suddenly lost her memory. Two days after her admission, she seemed to
remember everything that happened in the last 48 hours, but nothing of the
events that happened before that.
“To make a long story
short, as you will read in her chart, she had a small lesion in the
hippocampus, which is, as you know, one portion of the brain that controls memory
retention. It transfers short to long-term memories. Although insignificant in
the grand-scheme of things, like the old spark plug in your car, without it,
your brain would simply be an elegant way to enclose scrambled eggs into your
skull.
“After an operation that
only lasted a half-an-hour, I was able to remove the lesion and have her back
to her old-self within a matter of hours.”
“Could you tell us how
the lesion appeared?” Gerald asked. “Was it as a result of a trauma?”
“No, Doctor. The lesion seemed
to have been the result of an external damage which she sustained many years
ago.”
“And it only showed up
now?” Tiffany sounded puzzled.
“Like any cancerous
lesion, an intracranial lesion takes time to grow. The brain is not a
particularly friendly place for a tumor. A liver, lung, or even kidney makes
for a better environment for any lesion to develop.”
“And it must be harder to
prevent such a cancer from occurring than it is any other, one has to suppose,”
Dr. Kerry said.
“Exactly. We can tell
people not to smoke in order to prevent them
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