A while later, Dr. Stanton appeared with another doctor in tow—Dr. Nevis, Jodi’s neurologist.
Rupert’s heart sank. He started to get up, but Dr. Stanton shook her head. “Stay where you are. He’s fast asleep. Do you want me to get your friend from the waiting room?”
“Please.”
Dr. Stanton ghosted away and returned with Sophie before Rupert could blink. Sophie took her place at Jodi’s other side, reached over, and squeezed Rupert’s hand. Her smile was encouraging.She’s fucking deluded.
“It’s good news,” Dr. Stanton said.
Rupert blinked. He’d heard her wrong, or maybe her definition of good was already warped by the short time she’d spent on the job.
Perhaps sensing his cynicism, Dr. Nevis took a step forward. “The stroke team have ruled out any stroke activity, and Jodi’s brain scans look clear. Nothing has changed since we scanned him last month. His blood results are clear, and everything else is coming back normal, or at least what we’d expect from someone at Jodi’s stage of TBI recovery. Taking his symptoms into account, I’d say the most likely diagnosis at this stage is a hemiplegic migraine. They’re quite common in people who’ve had a significant head injury.”
Significant. Rupert hated that word. “What does ‘hemiplegic’ mean?”
“Hemiplegic means one-sided paralysis,” Dr. Stanton said. “Temporary numbness and weakness in one side of the body, blurred vision, and difficulty speaking. The accompanying headache is pretty brutal too. It’s one of the worse migraine variants.”
“But the good news is they’re not dangerous,” Dr. Nevis said. “Or progressive. We can manage them if they become a long-term side effect of the TBI.”
“But ...” Rupert shook his head slightly.
The doctors waited, but Rupert didn’t know what he was trying to say. His every nerve had been braced for the worst possible news, hearing the opposite had stunned him mute.
Sophie squeezed his hand. “What happens now?”
“We’ll send him to a ward to be monitored,” Dr. Stanton said. “Certainly for the rest of the day and possibly overnight, depending on how he does.”
“Then what?” Rupert asked.
Dr. Stanton raised an eyebrow. “Then you take him home.”
“Home?” Jodi suddenly stirred. He opened his eyes and met Rupert’s with a sleepy gaze. “Can I go home?”
Rupert cupped Jodi’s face and stroked his scruffy cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Not just yet. They want to keep an eye on you for a little while.”
Jodi fought Rupert’s hold on him and sat up. Rupert tensed, ready to catch him if he swayed, but Jodi held firm. “I don’t want to stay here.”
Dr. Nevis took a step forward. “How are you feeling?”
“Pukey,” Jodi said. “Like you fed me full of that morphine shit again.”
“Headache?”
“A bit. Not like before though. This one feels like a hangover.”
Dr. Nevis asked Jodi a few more questions and conducted an examination, then he exchanged a glance with Dr. Stanton, who nodded. “We can monitor you down here for an hour or so, and if you feel up to it, discharge you this afternoon under the condition that you come straight back if anything changes. That’s my best offer. Do we have a deal?”
Of course he had a deal. The doctors ghosted away. Rupert reclaimed his place at Jodi’s side and gently punched his arm. “I don’t know what the bloody hell just happened.”
“It’s good news,” Sophie said. “I’ve heard of those migraines. A girl at work had them. They’re bloody horrible, but it’s better than a stroke, eh?”
Jodi looked bemused. “Who had a stroke?”
“We thought you had,” Rupert said. “But it was a migraine. You remember what Dr. Nevis told you when he examined you a minute ago?”
“Hemiplegic migraine.” Jodi shuddered. “God, it hurt so much I thought my head was going to explode. I’m sorry, Rupe. I could see how scared you were, but I couldn’t get my tongue to work.”
Rupert laughed, exhaustion and relief merging together into a hysteria he could barely contain. Jodi shot him a quizzical glance, then shoved his hands in his pyjama pockets. “Where the fuck is my phone?”
