A Curve in the Road(58)

“Narcolepsy,” we each say together.

I stare at him with wide eyes, suddenly feeling very alert.

He nods, knowing that he doesn’t need to explain to me that narcolepsy is a neurological condition that causes disruptions in sleep patterns and excessive sleepiness during the day. The afflicted person can sometimes nod off involuntarily.

Another symptom is sleep paralysis—which is normal for most people during a state of REM, probably because our brains want to prevent us from acting out our dreams. But with narcolepsy, this paralysis can occur when the person is falling asleep or waking up, and it can be accompanied by vivid hallucinations that seem real.

Cataplexy is an add-on I really don’t need as a surgeon. It’s a loss in muscle tone while the person is awake. It’s usually triggered by a strong emotion, like panic. Even laughter can bring it on. Some episodes can be barely perceptible, with only a slight muscle weakness—a drooping eyelid, for example—but a more severe attack can result in a full physical collapse, like what just happened to me in the OR when the alarms started going off.

“But why?” I ask him. “I was fine before. Is this because of my accident?”

All the anger I have felt toward Alan pales in comparison to the blistering fury I feel now, because if I have acquired this condition because of his drunk driving escapade on his way to see his secret lover, I will never be able to forgive him. This isn’t something I can get over eventually, like the heartbreak from his affair. This is my whole future.

I’m a surgeon. How can I operate if I might drop instruments or fall down without warning? How can I handle sudden stressful situations if I have cataplexy? My career will be over. My life will never be the same.

If there was ever any chance of forgiveness, it’s slipping away now, fast as blue blazes.

Dr. Tremblay speaks plainly to me. “Narcolepsy is a mysterious condition, Abbie, and it may have any of several causes. It could be autoimmune in nature, or it may be genetic. Symptoms can take a while to fully manifest, so we can’t be sure it was your accident that caused this, at least not yet.” He holds up a hand. “But let’s not jump the gun. I’d like to do a full physical to rule out other things, then send you to a sleep clinic for some tests before we attach a diagnosis to this.”

I shut my eyes and nod my head, because I know how this works. We can’t presume anything at this stage. We need clinical test results and analysis to be sure.

“When can we do that?” I ask as I glance at the clock on the wall. “I have another case in less than an hour.”

He gives me a sympathetic look. “You’ll have to reschedule or get another surgeon to cover for you. And I advise you to stay out of the OR until we have this figured out.”

I lie back on the pillow and blink up at the ceiling. Great. The last thing I need is more time on my sofa in my bathrobe, watching daytime television. I thought I was past that.

What’s next, Lord? What else do you have lined up for me? I’m chomping at the bit to find out.





CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Despite the fact that I told my colleagues I didn’t want special treatment, Dr. Tremblay fast-tracks me into the sleep disorder clinic for overnight testing the following week. In the meantime, I’m not permitted to perform any surgeries, although I’m allowed to see patients in my office for diagnoses and follow-ups, and I continue to do rounds in the hospital.

While I wait to be tested, I research the heck out of my suspected condition and all the latest developments and treatments. My symptoms seem to grow worse, but I suspect that’s not truly the case. I’m simply more mindful of them now that I understand what’s wrong with me. When the fog enters my brain, I recognize it immediately, and I surrender to the urge to fall asleep, somewhere safe and appropriate for a nap.

On Sunday, after Zack’s hockey practice, he and I take Winston and drive to Lunenburg for dinner with my mom. While Zack is helping her set the table, I disappear into the bedroom for a few minutes to make a phone call, because there’s someone who’s been on my mind and I’ve been channeling him even harder since being in town.

“Hi, Nathan? It’s Abbie. I hope I’m not calling at a bad time.”

“Not at all,” he replies. “The girls are watching a movie. I’m glad you called. How are you?”

“I’m doing okay. I’m at my mom’s place right now.” I move to the window and look out at the backyard. “How have you been?”

“Great,” he replies. “Work is good. We’re heading into dental health month at the clinic, so that’s keeping me busy. Girls are doing well. Marie just got a part in the school play this week.”

“That’s wonderful. What’s the play?”

“It’s a kid’s version of Macbeth. She’s playing the nurse.”

“How exciting.”

“Yes, it’s going to be fun. What’s up with you?”

I sit down on the edge of the bed and inch back against the pillows. “Funny you should ask. A lot’s happened, actually, since the last time we spoke, and that’s kind of why I’m calling. Remember when I told you about the dreams I was having, and you suggested I see my doctor?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Well, I made an appointment, but before I could get there, I passed out during a surgery.”