Page 33 of Bean
“I wouldn’t engage in anything too rough physically. Normal sexual intercourse is fine, but you may want to stay away from anything where your head gets shaken too much. And no bondage or impact play.”
No what now? Bondage? Impact play? The first rang a bell—something about being tied up—but the second one, I had no clue.
“Bondage is tying someone up with ropes or handcuffs or something,” Nash said, and he deserved points for keeping his face absolutely neutral. Like, totally blank. “And impact play means administering pain through some kind of instrument, like a whip or a paddle, or with bare hands, like a spanking.”
What kind of sex did Dr. Hanley think I was having? She must’ve seen something on my face because she calmly said, “Idon’t make assumptions about anyone’s sex life, Bean, nor do I judge anyone’s preferences. I simply answered your questions as inclusive as I could.”
Well, yeah, but awkward much? “Thanks, Doc, but I have no intentions of doing…that.”
“Then you should be fine. Okay, let’s look at your scans.” She turned her monitor sideways and the images popped up. “The good news is that there’s no difference compared to your previous scans. The downside is that we still have a limited understanding of astrogliosis, which is what we call all the changes in your astrocytes, your glial brain cells. Due to the traumatic injury you suffered, your brain cells have changed. Some of those changes are good, as they prevent further degeneration of your brain, but some are harmful. This is a relatively new field of interest, but big steps are being made thanks to improvements in MRI scans. There’s a relatively new method called a multidimensional MRI, which offers far more insights. I want to send you to Maryland to have one so we can see what’s going on. A colleague of mine is doing groundbreaking work for the National Institute of Health, the NIH, and he’s interested in studying your case further. If you’re willing.”
My head was dazzled by so much information at once. I wrote down the first word she’d used, astrogliosis. “Changes in the what, you said?”
“Astrocytes.” She spelled the word for me, and I wrote that down too. Then multidimensional MRI, NIH, and Maryland. That should be enough for me to do some research.
“And he’s interested in my case?”
She nodded. “Because it’s a government institute, it’s especially interested in studying TBI in our military so we can improve treatment. And your case is interesting because yourmemory issues are so severe. He’d love to gain more insight into that.”
“Would there be any cost involved for me?”
“There shouldn’t be. This would all be through the VA.”
I wrote that down too, then looked up again. “Is there any reason for me not to do this?”
“It’s a lot of hassle for a scan, and it would take time and effort. You may have to take off from work for a few days, but that’s all I can think of.”
That was an easy decision then. Anything that could help me get better was an automatic yes from me. “I’ll do it.”
Next to me, Nash nodded. “I’ll travel with you.”
“You don’t need to?—”
“I wasn’t asking,” Nash said calmly, and that was the end of that particular discussion. “You’re not traveling that far by yourself, not when a moment of disorientation could have consequences. I’m coming with you.”
“I think that’s a very smart idea,” Dr. Hanley said, beaming an approving smile at Nash. “I will reach out to Dr. Woods, my colleague, and I’ll inform you as soon as I know more.”
“Thank you.”
“Was there anything else you wanted to ask?” she checked.
Nash cleared his throat. “May I ask a question?”
“Of course, Sergeant.”
“I’ve noticed Bean remembers movies and books he’s read far easier than real-life events. Why is that? Why does he have no trouble remembering a movie, but he can’t recall if he called someone or not?”
“Story,” Dr. Hanley said promptly. “The difference is the power of story. Movies and books are stories, assuming you meant fiction books. The human brain is wired for stories, and they’re easy to remember because of the cause-and-effect structure. That’s why stories like theIliador from the Biblesurvived for a long time without ever being written down. Real life, however, is much more random and rarely makes sense from a causal point of view, so that’s not as easy for the brain to store.”
Stories. I’d never thought of that, but that was fascinating. “Does that mean that if I tell myself a story around something I need to remember, I might actually be able to?” I asked.
“With your level of brain trauma, there’s never a guarantee, but it’s definitely worth testing.”
I wassogoing to try that.
Nash must’ve felt the same because once we were back in the car, he said, “How about we create a story about you and Jarek? How you met and everything. That way, it might stick.”
Yup, he and I were on the same page. “Do we start it like a fairy tale? Like:once upon a time…?”