Art’s bed. “Is Art going to die?” she asked quietly. “Is that what you need to tell me?”
Dr. Halper looked down at the floor. He raised his head slowly and said, “I think I’d like to answer that with a fuller explanation than just a simple yes or no.”
Okay, she thought, at least he didn’t say yes.
“After reviewing the tests and consulting with some other doctors, I think we know better what we’re dealing with here, and where we need to go. But I want you to understand the situation, including the risks involved.” He picked up a clipboard, pulled some sheets back, and began to draw on a blank page.
Leanne waited patiently, trying to figure out what he was drawing. From her upside-down viewpoint it looked like a tree.
“Art had an aneurysm in his brain.” He turned the clipboard toward her, holding it to the light. “See these, these are like the main arteries in his brain. We all have them.” He pointed to a thick line that divided into two smaller ones. At the fork he had drawn a small round circle. “See this,” he said, pointing at the circle. “This is the aneurysm—well, it was the aneurysm, before it burst.”
“Did that happen yesterday?” she asked.
He nodded. “But the aneurysm could have been there much longer. Has Art been complaining of severe headaches lately?”
“No.”
“Any speech problems? Any problems with his balance?”
“No.”
“Has he been forgetting things?”
Leanne smiled. “Doc, we both have. But that’s been going on for years.”
Dr. Halper smiled. “I mean more serious things than that. The kind of forgetting that would really concern you.”
She shook her head.
“I guess, then, it’s possible it could have just formed yesterday. The point isn’t the bubble so much, but that the bubble burst.”
He went on to explain all the things that had happened in Art’s head after that. She was sure he was trying to make it simple, but it was just too much to comprehend. It all sounded so awful. When he finished, she asked, “Was it painful? Did Art suffer before he lost consciousness?”
Dr. Halper reached out and patted her hand. “Hard to say, Leanne. I don’t think so. I’d say he lost consciousness pretty quickly. The amazing thing is that it stopped bleeding. An aneurysm that size more often just bleeds out and the patient dies on the spot.”
“Oh, Lord.”
“In 15 percent of these cases, people die before ever reaching the hospital.”
“So that’s good, right? I mean, that Art’s made it this far?”
The doctor removed his hand and sat up straight. He inhaled deeply and looked at her as though much worse was to come.
“Leanne, I want so much to give you reason to hope, but my job right now is not to do that. I need to help you understand the situation as best as we understand it, so that you can give us an informed consent for what we think needs to happen from here.”
Leanne took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m sorry I keep interrupting you. I—”
“Don’t apologize. You just want Art to be okay. I want that too.” He glanced up at the machines surrounding Art, his eyes spending a moment at each one.
“Go on, Doctor. I’m listening.”
“See . . . there’s nothing to keep Art’s aneurysm from starting up again. For some reason, it just stopped.”
“So what do we do?”
“We have to go in and fix it.”
“Can you do that?”
“That’s part of what we need to talk about. Art’s aneurysm is in a very delicate place. After looking at the scans, I believe it’s in his best interest to have another surgeon do the operation. I’m good, but I’m not the best. At Shands they have the finest neurosurgeon in the southeast. I’ve called him and he’s willing to look at Art’s case.”
“Shands is in Gainesville, isn’t it? Is the surgeon coming here?”
“No, that won’t be necessary. If you approve of this plan, I will authorize a courier to drive Art’s file to Shands. The surgeon there will
Dr. Halper looked down at the floor. He raised his head slowly and said, “I think I’d like to answer that with a fuller explanation than just a simple yes or no.”
Okay, she thought, at least he didn’t say yes.
“After reviewing the tests and consulting with some other doctors, I think we know better what we’re dealing with here, and where we need to go. But I want you to understand the situation, including the risks involved.” He picked up a clipboard, pulled some sheets back, and began to draw on a blank page.
Leanne waited patiently, trying to figure out what he was drawing. From her upside-down viewpoint it looked like a tree.
“Art had an aneurysm in his brain.” He turned the clipboard toward her, holding it to the light. “See these, these are like the main arteries in his brain. We all have them.” He pointed to a thick line that divided into two smaller ones. At the fork he had drawn a small round circle. “See this,” he said, pointing at the circle. “This is the aneurysm—well, it was the aneurysm, before it burst.”
“Did that happen yesterday?” she asked.
He nodded. “But the aneurysm could have been there much longer. Has Art been complaining of severe headaches lately?”
“No.”
“Any speech problems? Any problems with his balance?”
“No.”
“Has he been forgetting things?”
Leanne smiled. “Doc, we both have. But that’s been going on for years.”
Dr. Halper smiled. “I mean more serious things than that. The kind of forgetting that would really concern you.”
She shook her head.
“I guess, then, it’s possible it could have just formed yesterday. The point isn’t the bubble so much, but that the bubble burst.”
He went on to explain all the things that had happened in Art’s head after that. She was sure he was trying to make it simple, but it was just too much to comprehend. It all sounded so awful. When he finished, she asked, “Was it painful? Did Art suffer before he lost consciousness?”
Dr. Halper reached out and patted her hand. “Hard to say, Leanne. I don’t think so. I’d say he lost consciousness pretty quickly. The amazing thing is that it stopped bleeding. An aneurysm that size more often just bleeds out and the patient dies on the spot.”
“Oh, Lord.”
“In 15 percent of these cases, people die before ever reaching the hospital.”
“So that’s good, right? I mean, that Art’s made it this far?”
The doctor removed his hand and sat up straight. He inhaled deeply and looked at her as though much worse was to come.
“Leanne, I want so much to give you reason to hope, but my job right now is not to do that. I need to help you understand the situation as best as we understand it, so that you can give us an informed consent for what we think needs to happen from here.”
Leanne took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m sorry I keep interrupting you. I—”
“Don’t apologize. You just want Art to be okay. I want that too.” He glanced up at the machines surrounding Art, his eyes spending a moment at each one.
“Go on, Doctor. I’m listening.”
“See . . . there’s nothing to keep Art’s aneurysm from starting up again. For some reason, it just stopped.”
“So what do we do?”
“We have to go in and fix it.”
“Can you do that?”
“That’s part of what we need to talk about. Art’s aneurysm is in a very delicate place. After looking at the scans, I believe it’s in his best interest to have another surgeon do the operation. I’m good, but I’m not the best. At Shands they have the finest neurosurgeon in the southeast. I’ve called him and he’s willing to look at Art’s case.”
“Shands is in Gainesville, isn’t it? Is the surgeon coming here?”
“No, that won’t be necessary. If you approve of this plan, I will authorize a courier to drive Art’s file to Shands. The surgeon there will
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