Dr. Brandt: Chapter 17

When we walked toward the room where Lisa waited for us, I was more anxious than ever. I had no idea where these feelings had come from because I was surrounded by all things zen in this hospital. There was no call for this. Nonetheless, my heart was racing, my palms were sweaty, along with all the other exciting symptoms accompanying nearly chucking up your guts in front of God and everyone.

As we followed Dr. Palmer into the private sitting room and I laid eyes on the young woman, my fears vanished.

Her black hair was cut into a pixie-like bob, accentuating the pointy features of her face. Her eyes were a vibrant green, and her complexion a soft pale color. The rosy-red blush of her cheeks made me grin. This young lady was a physical display of health and happiness, with no traces of a medical condition that led to life-changing surgery.

“Hi, I’m Lisa.” She snapped to her feet and nearly danced over to where Jackson and I stood next to the doctor.

“I’m Jessica,” I said smiling, “and this is my son Jackson.”

“Call me Jacks,” Jackson said, much more forward than I imagined he would be after meeting someone for the first time.

Lisa’s energy was intoxicating, though. She was filled with excitement and radiated positivity. I don’t think there was any way someone could be negative around this girl.

“Hey, Dr. Palmer,” she said, hugging the woman I had developed a jealous streak for minutes earlier.

“How’s our favorite gem?” Dr. Palmer questioned.

“Good,” she said. “Where’s Dr. Brandt? He promised he’d be here, and I haven’t seen him in forever.”

“He was called into surgery,” Dr. Palmer said, “but I’m going to make sure he buys you that bag of Kettle Corn he promised the day you left us.”

“Mm-hmm. He owes me,” she said with a silly smile.

“Lisa, where did you want to begin the interview?”

“Interview?” She rolled her eyes and giggled, “Dr. Palmer, you are way too professional sometimes. It’s just me, and Dr. Brandt said to keep it casual.” She looked at Jackson and me. “You guys want to go outside? The breeze gardens were always my favorite when I was in rehab here.”

“Sounds great,” I said, trying to loosen up and go with the flow.

“Here, Jacks,” she said with a darling smile, “walk with me.”

It was an endearing moment, and I was grateful for this opportunity.

“They are cute,” Dr. Palmer said with a hint of sass as we walked behind the two.

“They are,” I answered. I saw the girl’s slight limp on her right side and noticed that she didn’t seem to have movement in her right arm.

My heart rate raced, and this time it was somewhat justified. Cameron hadn’t mentioned these possibilities when he went straight to the idea that surgery was the only answer.

I didn’t want to jump to conclusions until we heard Lisa’s story, but I was happy we were headed outside where I could get some fresh air because I felt myself beginning to spiral.

I knew the surgery would have some life-changing effects, so why was I surprised that one of them was potentially staring me in the face?

Fuck. Why is this happening to Jacks? How are we supposed to do this?

I felt like punching one of the beautiful willow trees we passed by.

I tried to steady myself, knowing that if I spoke, I had no idea what manner of unfiltered things might come out of my mouth.

I wanted to march back into that hospital, find Cameron, drag his ass out of surgery, and demand he tell me why he didn’t warn me about these side effects. Jackson’s future in sports would be out of the question, at the least.

As I selfishly ruminated on these horrific thoughts, anger firing them off one-by-one in my head, I heard Jackson laugh.

I felt like I was in a daze, but my thoughts were pulled out of this hole of selfish hopelessness when I saw Lisa throwing her head back in laughter.

“Dr. Brandt said that it took about six months after her surgery for her to be able to speak again,” Dr. Palmer said, bringing my attention to where she stood smiling at my son and Lisa laughing at the swans in the pond, swimming in circles.

“That was me after my surgery,” Lisa said with another laugh. “I was walking in circles instead of swimming in circles, though.”

“Was it frustrating?” Jackson asked. “I read that I might lose function of my right leg, possibly the entire right side of my body, with a hemispherectomy.”

“Which side is Dr. Brandt going to operate on?”

“The left,” Jackson answered.

“It’s possible. Only Dr. Brandt can answer that question for you,” she answered him.

“True. Was it hard, though? To go through with it or to go through rehabilitation?”

I folded my arms together as Dr. Palmer and I sat on a nearby bench, listening to the two talk.

The thought of Jackson having this surgery, going through painstaking recovery, and having potentially severe side effects terrified me to my core. I was a mother. Biology demanded that I do everything in my power to keep my child from harm. It would go against nature for me to feel anything other than fear in this situation, but I reminded myself that this wasn’t about me. This was about Jackson, and he didn’t seem scared. If anything, he seemed intrigued.

“Lisa’s mother was a lot like you,” Dr. Palmer said. “At least that’s how the story goes. I’ve only been here for a year, and Lisa’s surgery was performed four years ago.”

“Four years ago?” I said. Knowing that Lisa still had some paralysis after that length of time made me wonder if Jackson would ever be able to play sports again. I’d been holding to hope that surgery was the solution to that problem. I didn’t think that it might take away the possibility entirely.

“Yes, and she’s come a very long way. But Dr. Brandt has always said that timing and age are critical in performing these surgeries. He operated on Lisa when she was fourteen years old, and still, even though she was young, it took a lot of work in rehab to get her where she is today.”

“And that is?”

That may have come off bitchy. I didn’t know, and I didn’t mean to, but it was hard to put a lid on my concerns.

“She brags that Dr. Brandt challenged her in ways that most doctors wouldn’t. She is quite a competitive child. Cameron thinks she must’ve talked her mother into allowing her to have the surgery just to prove to the doctors that anyone could recover at her age—older or not. I think Cameron’s first challenge was telling Lisa the only wheels she’d have were her wheelchair wheels.”

“That’s a bit callous, don’t you think?”

“You haven’t seen Dr. Brandt with his patients, or you’d understand.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“He’s known for finding his patients’ weakness or challenge points,” she said, ignoring my blunt remarks. “So, with Lisa, he knew that if you told her she wouldn’t have something, she’d prove you wrong. Cameron told me that it nearly crushed him when he challenged her because even as a fantastic surgeon, he wasn’t sure if she would be able to walk again. It was a real possibility that she’d be in a wheelchair for the rest of her life. But when her parents told him that reverse psychology worked like a charm on their daughter, Cameron went to work.

“He didn’t want to upset Lisa, but he needed to challenge her greatly to train her right hemisphere to work harder. She needed it to pick up where the left hemisphere once did the work. She remained diligent, focused, and most of all, driven with willpower that blew Dr. Brandt’s mind. It didn’t take long before she regained the function of parts of the right side of her body. She found her little laugh and smile again too.”

I smiled, hearing Lisa and Jackson in a happy conversation. Jackson didn’t shy away from the hard questions.

“It’s okay to be fearful for your son, you know?”

“I understand, but it’s not fair to him for me to be upset by this drastic change in his life. I don’t want him to have the surgery, but because my son is sixteen, and this isn’t my life, I don’t know how to feel about making the decision. Am I willing to risk constant, crippling seizures over the potential side effects of this surgery?”

“It’s wonderful that you consider his feelings; however, in the end, he’s a minor, and you’re the one signing the papers. So, if you’re not one hundred percent convinced that your son should go through with this surgery and you back out at the last minute, whether he wants it done or not, that will be a heavy thing for you both to deal with.”

“What are you saying?”

“I saw the look on your face when you noticed Lisa’s limp,” she said, practically reading my mind and having the answers lined up for my questions. “The sight of it rightfully shook you. I’ve been with parents who were very confident and comfortable with their children having surgeries—different ones than a hemispherectomy, of course—and even they have backed out at the last minute, some of them leaving mine or Dr. Brandt’s care altogether. Unfortunately, fear has a way of taking over emotions, and sometimes poor decisions are made. This is why Dr. Brandt wanted you both to meet with Lisa. Lisa’s mom called off the surgery the night before it was scheduled, but with the help of our neuropsychologists and Dr. Brandt’s relaxed demeanor, they convinced her to go through with it.”

“What would have happened if they didn’t do the surgery? What form of epilepsy did she have that called for a hemispherectomy?”

“She had Rasmussen’s encephalitis, a degenerative disease. It damages tissues, eating away at one side of the brain but never making it to the other. If it had been left untreated, she would have suffered paralysis on one full side of the body and had uncontrollable seizures. It took about a year before Dr. Brandt was able to fully gain Lisa and her family’s trust to move ahead with the surgery. The younger they are, the better it is to operate on them since the brain is still developing and the left and right hemispheres are still growing.”

“Dr. Brandt mentioned that if we wait too long, there’s a chance he won’t recover as expected?”

“Correct,” she answered. “Jackson is sixteen, and that really is the maximum age that this surgery will be performed. After that, there are more risks, and the percentages of excellent recoveries start to go down.”

“Funny, Cam didn’t mention that when he insisted this surgery was the only answer.”

I was irritated again, but I knew it was just a flood of emotions taking over me. Still, Cameron could’ve been a little more forthcoming with information like that.

“Dr. Brandt most likely knew that if he were, you would never have spoken to Lisa or given this a shot.” A curious expression crossed her face, “Do you call him Cam?”

I nodded. “We went to college together.”

“Oh, nice. That makes sense. That guy has a knack for getting into your head before you even know what’s happening.”

“I take it you’ve dated, then?”

Jesus Christ! Shut up! I thought, feeling like an idiot for blurting that out.

“Oh, no. No,” she said with another laugh. “Though he is easy on the eyes, our relationship is very platonic.” She arched a playful eyebrow at me, most likely feeling sorry for me and adjusting her bedside manner to accommodate my stupid and immature comment. “Besides, he’s made it clear to nearly everyone at this hospital that he will not date anyone here.”

“Oh, wow. Well, I guess that makes him a bit of a stand-up guy. I always imagined that the good-looking doctors get to have all the fun.”

I stopped and shut the fuck up. What the hell was wrong with me?

“No, Dr. Brandt is most certainly not like those hot doctors you watch on those drama shows on television,” she laughed.

“I appreciate what you’ve said today. I mean, before this weird sidebar about Dr. Brandt,” I admitted.

“You’re going to be okay,” she said with a reassuring smile. “We’re all here for you and Jackson. You need to understand that.”

“I think I do,” feeling my nerves unwind for the first time since walking out here. “It’s going to take a bit, though, to process this.”

“We expect it would. The best part is that you both came today, taking the first step in the journey to learn more about the surgery and knowing that Jackson is not alone.”

“Yes,” I said, returning my attention to the pond.

I was going to be okay. Jackson would be okay too. I had to accept that and overcome these fears, and that would take time.