Dr. Brandt: Chapter 13

In the week since Jessa had come into my office, I’d been faced with the need to process more emotions than I could count. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with all of them, so I stuck with the one thing I could process. I had a patient whose scans I was going over for the fourth time, and he needed my skill.

Of course, this patient happened to be my biological son, and every time I’d seen him since our first meeting, I saw myself. It was bizarre to stare at a sixteen-year-old version of myself; it was also a curse.

“Dr. Brandt, Jackson Stein is here with his mother,” my receptionist alerted.

“Yes, thank you,” I said, rising to my feet. “Let’s hope this goes smoothly.”

“Good luck, Doc,” she said with a curious smile.

She had no idea how much luck I would need. After learning the boy was mine and reading up on his condition, I walked a fine line by meeting with Jessica and Jackson without my surgical consultation team. I hoped this was a smart idea, taking more of an intimate approach than a professional one.

Jackson’s only shot at halting these seizures was through surgery. It would also mean a lifestyle change and could be the most challenging mountain he’d ever climb in the fight to get his life back.

“Shit,” I mumbled, my hand gently covering the door handle to the consultation room where Jessa and Jackson waited.

I took a quick moment to clear my thoughts. I had to be confident, or there was no point in meeting with the two on a more personal level to get them to agree to this life-changing surgery.

“Cam,” Jessa’s eyes lit up as I walked into the room.

Thank God this woman had some soothing, soul-energy charm that worked on my ass, or I’d let my twisted-up emotions run over the top of me. Since looking at Jackson’s charts, I’d done my best to disconnect from my feelings for the woman. Those selfish thoughts of her and Jackson being mine had faded, and my medical instincts had been dominating since.

“Jessa,” I returned her sparkling smile and eyed Jackson’s, “and Jacks,” I said, sitting down and using the name he’d requested.

“So, we got a phone call stating you wanted to meet us on a more personal level. I’m probably being a bit negative, but I’m not sure if that’s a good thing,” Jessa said skeptically.

I maintained my composure and internally thanked my years of practice in this field because I didn’t waver under her or Jackson’s look of concern. It was my job to fix him and banish any fear of what they may be thinking. I should’ve followed protocol and brought the team in here, but I went with some weird instinct and met with the two alone. My gut instincts never steered me wrong, so I wasn’t going to backtrack now. I was going to pace myself and move forward.

“Yes and no.” I clasped my hands on the table in front of me. “I can’t stand when medical professionals beat around the bush and don’t get to the point, so I will get right to it.”

Jessica seemed to bring that warrior-like motherly instinct to the table as soon as I answered her. Good, she needed to be strong to handle the news I was about to deliver.

I looked at Jackson. “For this, I’m going to ask you to bring forward your competitive nature, which I know you possess since you are an all-star player in multiple sports.”

“Yep,” Jackson answered, eying me like I was about to deliver his death sentence.

I could’ve been. It was a matter of perspective at this point.

“As you well know, your medication has been unable to control your seizures, and your MRIs have not been helpful either. After going over your lab work and scans repeatedly, I had my neuro team do some additional research into why this is happening when there is no reason why you should be having seizures.”

“That’s the thing,” Jessa interjected. “The doctors find nothing, and so they prescribe a new medication. The last one he was prescribed made poor Jacks walk around like he was half-stoned all the time.” She smiled sympathetically at her somber son, whose eyes were still locked onto me.

I subtly grinned, hoping to soften up Jacks some. “Right, and that’s because there is no medication that can ease what the neurological teams have found. Jackson, you have what we call a hemispheric cortical dysplasia, otherwise known as HCD.” My eyes shifted back to Jessa’s. “This is a very frustrating cause of epilepsy because while we are advanced in epileptic findings and research, this one slides under the radar. You need a trained eye or a doctor who refuses to give up on finding it.”

“You won’t give up,” Jackson finally spoke.

“Hell, no. I won’t give up,” I answered. “But I need to be sure you won’t either.”

“I’m not giving up. I wouldn’t be here with my mom, trying to fix myself, if I were the type to let this beat me. What exactly are we talking about?”

“I’ll have the surgical teams show you diagrams and a video of how this affects you. You’ll want to become educated on it.” I knew he and Jessa weren’t interested in anything but details, so it was time to dive in. “This is a very subtle condition, and one either needs to be exceptionally skilled to find it or know what they’re after because it will not show up on scans. Luckily for all of us, I am exceptionally skilled, and I’ve dealt with this before. Basically, your brain is being altered in specific circuits, and it is not functioning correctly. The electrical storm will fire up at random, prompting a seizure. There is no way to block this electrical storm with medication as the neurons are abnormal, so my job will be to disconnect them.”

I paused for their reactions. I was about to drop the hammer concerning the type of surgery needed, and I wondered if less was more in delivering this information. I didn’t want to scare them into this surgery, and I certainly didn’t want to overwhelm them. Hence the reason I didn’t have fifteen members of my team in here staring at them as I delivered this news. Surgery was always the last resort, but the fact that I’d found this almost instantly might have made it seem like it was first on my list. That wasn’t the case. Unfortunately, there were no other options for Jackson but to go under the knife.

“What type of surgery are we looking at, Cam?” Jessa’s voice was direct.

I nodded at Jessa and pursed my lips. “I want you both to know that I do not take this lightly. It may be frightening to hear and process at first, but I’ve done numerous surgeries of this nature, and they have all been successful.”

“Okay,” Jackson said quietly.

“A hemispherectomy of Jackson’s left hemisphere will need to be performed. I will go in and disconnect the bad parts of the brain in this surgery. The seizures will improve and end from that alone.”

“At what fucking cost, Cameron?” Jessica appeared to have snapped, and now, I was facing a ferocious mother without my surgical team to step in and help me keep her and her son reassured throughout this consultation.

What part of me being some damn hero doctor and doing this on a more personal level was a good idea again? God help me. I’d never done this shit alone; even worse, I could be screwing this up for Jackson by trying to handle it on my own.

“Listen, I know this is frightening to hear because I—”

“You just told us you were basically removing a hemisphere of Jackson’s brain, Cameron. The term disconnecting is just how you put it to make it sound like my son would have to live life with only one side of his brain functioning.”

“Yes,” I was direct and easing my way into responding to Jessa in the same tone she was using to keep her as focused as I could in this terrifying situation. “I want you both to meet with my patient, Lisa Jameson. She was in Jackson’s situation four years ago. I want her to share her story of how the surgery helped her. Even though it took hard work, she got her life back. I know nothing sounds hopeful about losing the function of one side of your brain, but there is hope. Though we may not like the journey or path we’re forced to take, there is a reason for that path and that journey. I’m the type of person who believes we all come to these decisions for a good reason.”

“Cameron,” Jessa stood, “I apologize if I started off on an unprofessional and unconventional foot. I am. It’s probably why you felt you could casually come in here and talk about disconnecting half of Jackson’s brain. I’m sorry, but this is not good enough for me. I will not gamble with my son’s life or make him spend the rest of his life trying to retrain his brain to compensate for the parts that don’t work anymore. He doesn’t deserve that.”

“What does he deserve then, Jessa?”

“A chance at the all-star games next year. To go back into sports without fearing something will happen and trigger a seizure again. Anything but having to probably learn to walk again.”

“Mom,” Jackson rose and took his mother into his arms as I stood across from them and watched silently. Their bond reminded me of what I shared with my mother before she died.

As I watched them, I felt helpless. I wanted to be there for them, a supportive helpmate for Jessa or a father to Jackson, but I was the one delivering the bad news. Instead of being able to comfort them, I was forcing them to feel like they only had each other.

This was a strange feeling that I didn’t like at all. I could only stand there and observe and wish I had the luxury of holding them in this time of need.

Jackson needed this surgery, and I knew that. The clock was ticking, and it was only a matter of when, not if, the seizures would take over, and then he wouldn’t have this fighting chance. It was my duty to ask the only questions that mattered right now.

“I know this isn’t easy news to hear,” I started, listening to Jessica sniff and pull herself together to take me head-on. “But as these electrical storms and these epileptic seizures continue, the good and healthy side of Jackson’s brain will struggle to develop further. So, it is vital that we use what time he has left in the still-developing brain to allow his right hemisphere to train itself to develop and do the job of both hemispheres. You both need to know and understand that things will get progressively worse if we don’t take the luxury of operating soon.”

“Luxury?” Jessa spat.

“Luxury,” I answered her. “Most doctors find these issues when it’s too late. By then, the patient is disabled because things progressively worsen with age. I’d say we found this just in time. This will no longer be an option within a year or so, and then he’ll be facing a lifetime of these seizures.”

Something softened in Jessica, almost as if I were suddenly speaking her language. I don’t know what triggered the change, but I was damn grateful she appeared more receptive, and there seemed to be a fighting chance.

“If Jackson wishes to investigate this further, we will want to see these videos and look at all the available information. Also, if Jackson wants to meet with your patient, I will gladly support him.” She looked at her son. “My first instinct is to say no to this and pray we can find another way, but I know that reaction comes from my fear. You and I have looked for quite a long time and prayed for answers, and though it’s not the answer I want, Jackson, this isn’t my life. It’s yours, and I want you to live it to the fullest no matter what. Cameron is right; this is your journey, not mine. I will support whatever decision you make and the direction you want to take.”

“Well,” Jackson briskly rubbed his mom’s arms, “you will have to support the decision because I’m still a minor and on your insurance.”

“Jacks,” she playfully punched his arm, “I’m serious. Yes, you’re a minor, but at times you have the decision-making skills of a wise adult. I want you to take some time to think about this, though.”

“We’ll watch the pieces that Dr. Brandt recommended, and we’ll speak with his patient. Trust me, I’m taking my time before I decide to unplug any part of my brain.” He chuckled and rolled his eyes, then he looked at me, the buffoon standing there watching this moment as if I were outside, looking through a window at the two most important people in my life. “Let’s finish discussing the details of this surgery and the odds I’m up against. And then we’ll move forward.

I would do anything for them, and as I let that warm and fuzzy feeling wash over me, a man was ushered into the conference room and introduced as Jessa’s fiancé.