anymore. Look at what’s happening to you. Stomach pains, kidney stones, forgetfulness, you’re angry all the time; you’re even fighting with people. Please! Take those tests that Dr. Crowell ordered. I can’t understand why you don’t do it.”
He felt backed into a corner. “You’re right. I’ll go, but now I’m going to work.”
“Work? When I spoke to Andy, he figured you wouldn’t be back today.”
“I got lots of work. Gotta go now.” He brushed her cheek with a quick kiss and dashed out the door. She watched him leave, thinking he appeared calmer than earlier. She considered speaking with Dr. Crowell since George did not get angry when she approached the subject of his following through with the prescribed tests.
Andy looked up with surprise when George walked in. “Your wife called and said you went to the hospital. We didn’t expect you today. Everything okay?”
“Yeah. I’m okay. The doctor thinks I passed a kidney stone.”
“Man, that hurts.” Having had a kidney stone himself, Andy knew.
“Worse pain I ever had.”
“Sure you’re okay?” said Andy.
“Sure. I’m fine.”
“Why not work on the lighter stuff today?” suggested Andy. “Take care of the trim, and let the other guys do the rest.”
“No, no. I don’t have any more pain and can do my regular work. In fact, when I finish today’s work, I’ll start the trim.”
Andy eyed him with suspicion, but kept quiet. George knew Andy was watching him and he went to great lengths to avoid Andy and his coworkers. Not only had his relationship with coworkers changed, but also everyone was on guard not to provoke him.
He felt anxious even though he was not suffering recurrent pain. He would be involved with some task and then suddenly forget what he was doing and how he got there. Such confusion compounded his anxiety. During periods of clarity, he recognized his faulty thinking, but at other times, he reverted to paranoia.
CHAPTER 13
Meanwhile, Gail was busy researching the subject of brain tumors. She got good news and bad news. The good news was that George did not complain of headaches, a major symptom. Yet he did have an episode of vomiting, which could also be symptomatic of a brain tumor. Still, she suspected his ulcer might have triggered the vomiting. Her paramount concern was his mental change, an initial symptom in twenty five percent of all brain tumor cases. The findings included personality changes, confusion, disorientation, behavior changes, and complete psychosis. She convinced herself of her need to confront him now. She needed to make certain he got the MRI. She telephoned Dr. Crowell’s office. He was away for a week at a post-graduate course, but his nurse lost no time scheduling the MRI and providing Gail with full instructions.
That evening when she mentioned having scheduled his MRI George flew into a rage. He picked up a nearby stack of books and slammed them on the floor. “What? Who told you to do that?” he shouted. Such an unexpected display of anger at this time caught Gail off-guard, and she started to cry. “You promised,” she choked through her sobs.
George had enough presence of mind to realize that Gail was displaying raw emotion in a way that she had not done before. He realized the need to placate her, and calmed himself down.
“Okay, I’ll go, but it’s a waste of time.” Gail made the appointment.
He was unhappy, but he convinced himself to get it over with.
The hospital technologist explained the procedure for the MRI to him and asked if he was claustrophobic. When he assured her he was not, she assisted him in lying down on the table and covered his eyes with a cloth to help him relax. Then she guided him into the tunnel. Seconds later, he slithered off the table and landed on the floor. As he was panting and hyperventilating, the worried technologist rushed to his side.
“Don’t be afraid, it happens sometimes.”
He was trembling. “It felt like I was buried inside a casket.”
“I won’t use a cloth over your eyes,” she said. “When you enter the tunnel look towards your feet, so you’ll see outside the tunnel and know you’re safe and not surrounded by it on all sides.”
He fought the urge to leave, but controlled himself. When the technologist gave him an injection of contrast material to ‘light up’ a possible abnormality, his ordeal was soon over and he was free to go.
“How was it?” asked Gail.
“A piece of cake.”
The following two days were nerve-wracking for Gail while she waited for the test results. The news was good. His MRI was perfect. There was not a single abnormality.
“Now are you satisfied?” he said. “My brain, like everything else, works just fine.”
Gail let out an audible sigh. “Better get to work,” she told him.
CHAPTER 14
He resumed his job. He tried his best, but problems continued to plague him. One afternoon he experienced a recurrence of the ulcer-like symptoms. He had stopped his medication after thinking the pain was gone. Now he had none left to alleviate the condition. After work, he drove to the local drugstore for a bottle of antacids.
This evening he didn’t come home from work on time. Gail was worried. Two hours passed and she panicked. She telephoned the construction site, but nobody answered. She assumed the worst. His job was a thirty-minute drive from home, and many hospitals were located along the way. She called the two nearest ones, but they told her that George Gilmer was neither an inpatient nor had he come through the Emergency Department. Just as she was considering calling the police the telephone rang.
“Hello, Mrs. Gilmer?”
“Yes, who is this please?” she asked.
“I’m officer Dixon of the Roby Avenue police station.
“Oh, my God. What happened?”
“Your husband was caught breaking into a car parked in front of a drugstore. He smashed the window on the driver’s side, got in and drove away. A pedestrian noted the make of the car and the license plate number and called the police. We had a patrol car pick him up. He didn’t answer questions, so the officer called for help and we brought him into the station. He wasn’t cooperating and was acting funny. It took us a while to find out that the car your husband broke into was his own. He smashed the window to get inside after realizing that he had locked the keys in the car. We’ve got him calmed down now and he’s okay. But I got to tell you, he came real close to jail time.”
Gail forced herself to remain calm. “Will he be able to come home now?” she said in a controlled tone of voice.
“Yeah, we were worried about drugs or alcohol, but he snapped out of it fast so that couldn’t be the problem. Right now he’s fine.”
“Thank you, officer.” Relieved, she hung up the receiver. She had not asked to speak to George for fear he would say something wrong.
