Her life had become a nightmare. Everything had been wonderful until that fateful evening. She had been with Jim and they both had been studying. Progressively, she had become aware that she was having difficulty reading, particularly when she came to a specific sentence beginning with the word “Ever.” She was certain she knew the word but her mind refused to give it to her. She had to ask Jim. His response was a smile, thinking she was teasing. After she persisted, he told her “ever.” Even after Jim had told her the word, when she looked at its printed form, it wouldn’t come to her. She remembered feeling a powerful sense of frustration and fear. Then she began to smell the strange odor. It was a bad smell, and although she sensed she’d smelled it before, she could not say what it was. Jim denied smelling anything and that was the last thing Lisa remembered. What had followed was her first seizure. Apparently it had been awful, and Jim was shaking when she regained consciousness. She had struck him several times and scratched his face.
“Good morning, Lisa,” said a pleasant male voice with an English accent. Looking up behind her, Lisa met the dark eyes of Dr. Bal Ranade, an Indian doctor who had trained at the university. “You remember what I told you last night?”
Lisa nodded. “No coughing or sudden movements,” said Lisa, eager to please. She remembered Dr. Ranade’s visit vividly. He’d appeared after her dinner, announcing himself as the anesthesiologist who was going to take care of her during her operation. He had proceeded to ask her the same questions about her health she’d answered many times before. The difference was that Dr. Ranade did not seem to be interested in the answers. His mahogany face did not change its expression, except when Lisa described her appendectomy at age eleven. Dr. Ranade nodded when Lisa said she’d had no trouble with the anesthesia. The only other information that interested him was her lack of allergic reaction. He nodded then too.
Usually Lisa preferred outgoing people. Dr. Ranade was the opposite. He expressed no emotion, just a quiet intensity. But for Lisa, under the circumstances this cool affectation was appropriate. She was glad to find someone for whom her ordeal was routine. But then Dr. Ranade had shocked her. In the same precise Oxford accent he said: “I presume that Dr. Mannerheim has discussed with you the anesthetic technique which will be used.”
“No,” said Lisa.
“That’s odd,” said Dr. Ranade at length.
“Why?” asked Lisa, sensing trouble. The idea that there could be any breakdown in communication was alarming. “Why is that odd?”
“We usually use a general anesthesia for craniotomy,” said Dr. Ranade. “But Dr. Mannerheim has informed us that he wants local anesthesia.”
Lisa had not heard her operation described as a craniotomy. Dr. Mannerheim had said that he was going to “turn a flap” and make a small window in her head so that he could remove the damaged part of her right temporal lobe. He’d told Lisa that somehow, a part of Lisa’s brain had been damaged, and it was that section that was causing her seizures. If he could take just the damaged part out the seizures would stop. He’d done almost a hundred such operations with wonderful results. At the time Lisa had been ecstatic because up until Dr. Mannerheim all she could get from her doctors was compassionate head shaking.
And the seizures were horrible. Usually she knew when they were coming because she would smell the strangely familiar odor. But sometimes they came without warning, descending on her like an avalanche. Once in a movie theater, after she’d been given a long course of heavy medication and assurances that the problem was under control, she smelled the horrid odor. In a panic she’d jumped up, stumbled to the aisle, and ran back toward the lobby. At that point she became unaware of her actions. Later she “came to” propped up against the lobby wall by the candy machine, with her hand between her legs. Her clothes were partially off, and like a cat in heat, she’d been masturbating. A group of people was staring at her as if she were a freak, including Jim, whom she’d punched and kicked. Later she learned she’d assaulted two girls, injuring one enough to be hospitalized. At the time she’d “come to” all she could do was close her eyes and cry. Everyone was afraid to come near her. In the distance she remembered hearing the sound of the ambulance. She thought that she was going insane.