“Yes?” I answer.
“Doc, I’m sorry, but you need to come back,” she says.
“Why? What’s going on?”
“Grace had a seizure in the lobby.”
Chapter Fifteen
Holding in Air
Grace
For the second time in my life, I wake up in a hospital bed with only a vague idea as to how I got here.
A low tone enters my ears, but I just ignore it, closing my eyes again.
“Did I have another seizure?” I ask the air around me.
If there’s an answer, it’s not one that I can understand.
After a while, things start to clear up a little bit more, and I am, if nothing else, able to recognize the voice in the room.
It’s Dr. Willis.
Dr. Willis, head of the trial for JH813, the experimental drug for oligodendroglioma that’s still running through my veins — the drug, that is, not the tumor; that’s thankfully stationary — is a shorter woman with flowing blonde hair and absolutely no abilit
y to form her mouth into a smile.
“Grace, can you hear me?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I groan. “What happened?”
“You had a seizure,” she says, and looks down to her clipboard. “Is this the first seizure you’ve had since your diagnosis?”
“No,” I tell her. “I had a seizure a couple of months ago, and that’s what led to my diagnosis.”
“Have you been feeling any new or worsening symptoms since the last time we’ve met?”
“Other than the seizure I apparently just had?”
She looks up, perfectly incapable of finding anything charming. “Yes,” she says. “Apart from that, have you noticed anything out of the ordinary?”
“No,” I tell her. “Actually, I’ve been feeling pretty good being off the chemo.”
“You haven’t had any symptoms over the last few days that you haven’t reported?” she asks.
“No,” I tell her. “Where’s Jace?”
“Jace?”
“I’m sorry,” I say, “Dr. Churchill.”
“I’m in charge of the trial, and while he’s been notified, I’m your primary physician at this time,” she says.
“Don’t you think that’s kind of weird?”
“What do you mean?”