Brain by Cook Robin

Author:Cook, Robin [Cook, Robin]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Signet Book
Published: 1980-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

10

It was after seven when Denise woke up and grabbed for the clock. She was horrified at the time. Being so accustomed to Martin getting up at six, she didn't set the alarm when he slept over. Throwing back the covers, she dashed into the bathroom to jump into the shower. Philips opened his eyes in time to catch her bare back heading down the hallway. It was a wonderful image to start the day.

Oversleeping had been Philips' deliberate gesture of defiance to his old life, and he stretched luxuriously in the warm bed. He thought about going back to sleep but then decided showering with Denise was a better idea.

In the bathroom, he found she was almost finished and in no mood to kid around. Entering the shower stall he got in her way and she petulantly reminded him that she had to present the X rays at the CPC at 8:00 A.M.

"Why don't we make love again?" crooned Martin. "I'll give you a doctor's excuse for being late."

Denise draped her wet washcloth over Martin's head, and stepped out onto the bath mat. While she dried herself she spoke to Philips over the sound of the water. "If you finish at a decent hour, I'll make some dinner tonight."

"I'm not accepting any bribes," shouted Martin. "I'm going to see what Pathology says about my sections on McCarthy's brain, and I'm hoping to take some polytomes and a CAT scan on Kristin Lindquist. Besides, I've got to run a bunch of old skull films through the computer. Today research is going to get top billing."

"I think you're stubborn," said Denise.

"Compulsive," said Martin.

"When do you want me to go to the GYN clinic?"

"As soon as possible."

"Okay. I'll make it for tomorrow."

While Sanger used the hair dryer, conversation was impossible. Philips got out of the shower and shaved with one of her disposable razors. The two of them had to do a complicated dance in the confines of the small bathroom.

As Denise leaned close to the mirror to put on her eye makeup she asked, "What do you think is causing the density variation on those X rays?"

"I really don't know," said Philips, trying to tame his thick blond hair. "That's why I've got the section in Pathology."

Denise leaned back to assay her efforts. "It seems that answering that question would be the first step rather than associating the abnormality with a specific disease like multiple sclerosis."

"You're right," said Philips. "The multiple sclerosis idea originated from the charts. It was a stab in the dark. But you know something? You've just given me another idea."

Philips entered the old medical-school building from the tunnel. The entrance from the street had long since been sealed off. As he climbed the stairs to the lobby, he felt a surprising sentimentality for that time in his life when the future held nothing but promise. When he reached the familiar dark wood doors with the worn red leather panels, he paused. The carefully lettered sign saying MEDICAL SCHOOL had been desecrated by a crude board nailed haphazardly across it.

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