The Drunken Traveler by Devin Keith Nerison - HTML preview

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CHAPTER FIVE

Page 5

DR. BAUER w

as our next choice. He examined me, and set me up for a battery of al ergy tests. There were 72 tests in al .

I didn’t care for them much. They made little cuts on my back with a razor, placing a strip of the food or substance (food concentrates, additives, pol en etc. etc.) which would react by inflaming the skin around it. This was al wel and good but when I reacted to 68 of them, I found that being al ergic to almost everything had some drawbacks. I had to sel my horse because I was al ergic to the hair. We had to keep our family dog at my grandparents. Most foods were off the menu. That didn’t bother me al that much, at that time eating was just a waste of time. Time I could have better spent doing something constructive.

Once during this period of possible lethal reactions, my mother and I went to the Safari Club for lunch. The club is a restaurant fil ed with stuffed animals that the owner had shot by his own hand on countless safaris. You name it, lions, tigers, bears, and antelope. He even had elephant feet end tables. We had lunch there at the club: we were then to go visit the owner’s house to see his private col ection. I guess the owner’s wife and my mom were friends from some oil painting class or something. Anyway, we arrived at a big house that was ful of the stuffed animals. A ten-foot polar bear greeted us at the door with fangs the size of penny nails, but stil , there was also something somehow fluffy and cuddly about it.

After about thirty minutes, the headache began.

It was bearable for a while, not only was I used to headaches, but right then the safari adventure was worth a little discomfort.

As I was looking at the king sized marlin mounted on the wal , my eyesight became fuzzy. I told my mother, and we were out of there and driving home before the screen door slammed.

The ride home was uncomfortable. My mother stopped the car once to try and comfort me. I was rol ing around on the back seat screaming. I pressed my head between the door and the seat to al eviate some of the pain. It had always helped in the past, but this time I was having the granddaddy of headaches. My whole body was on fire, and nothing could put out the flames – I wanted to die.

The attack lasted for hours. When we got home I lay screaming and yel ing on the couch with my head pressed into the corner. Eventual y the pain got too much to bear.

I passed out.

I awoke hours later with the feeling of peace. The pain had gone. My whole body was tingling and wel rested. I’l never forget that feeling.

I began staggering to my right. I was losing my balance and a roaring sound started in my ears. It was the kind of sound you might hear if you put a seashel to your ear. It wasn’t deafening, but it was annoying al the same. I tried to ignore it, but it was no use. I decided to make the best of a bad situation.

Page 6

Towards the end of the summer I went to an ear specialist. He diagnosed an inner ear blockage and a twenty percent hearing loss.

The ear roared on.

It was September and school was starting. I was in the sixth grade and eager for the seventh. The problem was I now had more than just a roaring ear to deal with, my eyesight was going. I had no idea where it was going, or why. I wanted it back because it hampered my progress, so I found ways to work around it. At first it was difficult, but soon I got the hang of it things improved. You see, my eyes had several blind spots. When I moved my head around at different angles I could see an object more clearly. This wasn’t a perfect method, but I got a high percentage of hits.

Off again to the doctor we went. This visit was for a neurological exam. The doctor checked me out and sent me to have an electroencephalogram. I went in with the idea that these guys were going to put little sponges al over my head like in the movies.

Boy, did I have another thing coming.

My imagined TV doctor show version of this procedure to a remake of a Marquis De Sade flick. Needles attached to little wires. After a few minutes of phrases like, “very little discomfort”, I began to calm down. I began to realize that the best I could do with this situation was to sink into the inevitability of the procedure. I was stil scared though. I just tried not to show it – too much.

The pain real y wasn’t too bad. It was the sensation that kil ed me. The sound was the worst; grating as the technicians put in those needles. A smal pain was fol owed by the sensation of the needle punching through the skin and grinding into the bone.

After they got about a dozen needles in I stayed there for what seemed like a long time while they did the tests. I felt and looked like Frankenstein’s monster with al the wires sticking out of my head. Final y, they took the wires out, and I got up and started moving around the room. It held numerous electronic gadgets and technicians. It felt like a candy store and I asked more questions than I could list and absorbed as much as I could.

Two days later, I was back in Dr. Bauer’s office waiting for skul x-rays, but not getting the EEG results. Within the week we were off for more x-rays and my first real brain scan.

Then there was silence, not a word from anybody. On the sixth day we received word from Dr. Bauer: they had found something on the scan, but they didn’t quite know what – or did they? I figured they couldn’t tel us if they weren’t sure, so it seemed logical to keep hush-hush.

Page 7

The fol owing week I had an appointment with Dr. Dennis. My parents picked me up after school and drove me over to his office. John Patrick Dennis examined me, I was soon to cal him Dr. John. He thought I better have another brain scan.

The thought of another brain scan was no big deal, just another appointment in a series of many. I went on with my daily routine.

That evening my brother and I were riding our bikes out on the road when we heard mom yel ing for us to come in. I grumbled silently about the loss of some good riding time as we rode down the driveway to the deck.

Mom and dad were there waiting; I couldn’t think of anything I had done wrong lately. I was always getting into trouble over something, it was my mischievous nature.

“We need to speak with you.” “About what?”

“Dr. Dennis scheduled the brain scan for you next Monday. He thinks there’s an abnormal tissue growth, he’d like to take a better look at it.”

“Oh…Is that al . Can I go now?” I was much more interested in playing than worrying about abnormal tissue growths.

My mom looked at my father and said to me, “Would you like to take the horses to the beach this weekend?”

“Sure!”

I walked back to my bike.