Page 79 of Rise Above

I was doing this. My mouth dried. “Just call it intuition. We probably don’t even do it here.” I was rambling, and I knew it. This was an ongoing problem when I got overwhelmed. My palms were sweaty, my pulse had quickened, and everything felt like I was in a tunnel.

“I suppose so, but only because you’re my best

social worker. What exactly are you recommending?”

“Technically, I am not recommending anything.

However, I am simply proposing that you check her prolactin levels. If they come back high, give me a call.” I quickly scribbled my cell phone down and handed it to him.

Bowie quirked a brow. “I expect an explanation

either way, Aife.”

“Yeah, that’s fair. She’s clear from a psych point

though.”

I needed to sit down. Things were hitting a little too

close to home. I had to remind myself that the patient wasn’t me. That this was most likely coincidental. Heaving a breath in, I collapsed in a chair to put a note in. My vision was still tunneled as my memories plagued me. There were so many questions I still had for the patient. I wasn’t a 173

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medical professional, but I needed to know. What if she was like me?

Ignoring the urge to burst into her room, I decided

to write down all my questions instead. Maybe I could convince Bowie or her nurse to ask them. Taking out some paper, I wrote down all the symptoms I could remember. Did she have any skin issues like an unexplainable rash? Did she have trouble regulating her body temperature? Was she getting hot flashes or did she feel unreasonably cold? Was she having difficulty sleeping? How long was she able to sleep for? Did she have trouble staying asleep or going to sleep? Had she lost her peripheral vision at all? Did she have any other visual issues? Did she have memory problems? How frequent were her migraines? When did they start and where were they located? Did anything treat them? Could she sweat? My hands flew across the page as I wrote more and more questions.

“Aife, what are you doing?” Dr. Bowie asked,

peeking at my frantic note taking. “I requested the labs you asked for even if we don’t normally test for those. I mean, they are typically more outpatient.”

“Well, thank you, Dr. Bowie.” I scribbled a few

more questions down. “How soon do we think those will be back?”

“I ordered them stat, so hopefully soon. There’s

clearly something you aren’t telling me.” Bowie was a smart man, that much was obvious to everyone. The question was: did I feel ready to open up?

I blinked after briefly thinking of what I was willing

to admit. “What do you know about the pineal gland?”

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“There’s still plenty of research that needs to be

done around it. So far, research reveals it regulates melatonin and possibly other hormones. We also know pineal cysts are typically benign.”

“Right, most research would show that. What do

you know about prolactin?” Typically, the clinical aspect of case management was not my forte. I left that to my partner. There were some things I knew about, but most of it was gibberish to me. This, however, I knew.

Bowie analyzed me for a moment. I’d only been at