He strode into Lynn’s room and went into full-on doctor mode. Doctors have a way about them with patients, exuding a strange sort of calm, intense confidence, like nothing was beyond their expertise. I knew it was all bullshit, and every doctor cultivated that act, but it seemed to work on most people, including Lynn. She perked up a bit and smiled at him, answering his questions as he paged through her chart.
I watched him run through a simple physical exam and assisted him, though he didn’t really need my help. I caught him give me a tight smirk and I wanted to smack that look off his face, but he was being good with Lynn, careful and thorough, and I didn’t want to mess up his flow.
“And you said it’s in only one part of your head?”
She nodded. “Right side only, never moves, always the exact same spot.”
“And you had a CT and an MRI, looks like?”
“Dr. Foster said I’m all clear.”
Dean nodded and stroked his chin for a moment. “Did he give you any indomethacin?”
Lynn shook her head, a little bewildered, and looked at me. “I don’t think so. Does that sound familiar?”
“No,” I said, frowning at Dean. “It’s not in her chart, either.”
He stepped forward. “Here, take my hand.”
Lynn hesitated then took his hands again. “Like this?”
He nodded. “Push your thumb against my thumb. Right one only, please.” She did that and he seemed to grunt and nod. “Now the left.” Again, she pressed, but a small smile slid across her lips.
“That felt harder,” she said.
He gave a slight nod and released her. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.”
I watched him leave the room, slightly bewildered.
“Where’s he going?” Lynn asked.
“I have no clue,” I admitted.
“You said he’s a good doctor, right?”
I shook my head. “One of the best. I genuinely don’t know what he’s going for with this, though.”
“I guess it can’t hurt.” She leaned back against her pillow and sighed. “My head’s seriously pounding.”
We waited in silence for a few minutes and I busied myself with meaningless straightening. Ten minutes slipped past and I was ready to give up and leave when Dean came storming back in through her door with a big smile on his face and a small bottle of pills.
“Here you go,” he said, plonking them down on the table beside Lynn’s bed.
“What are those?” I asked.
“Indomethacin,” he said. “It’s like an older form of ibuprofen or Tylenol, something that’s not really used all that often anymore, but it has one particularly unique quality that makes it perfect for you.”
I walked over, picked up the bottle, and peered at it. “And what’s that?” I asked, taking his bait.
“It crosses the blood-brain barrier,” he said.
Lynn laughed. “So it’ll get straight to my head?”
“More or less.”
I took off the pill cap and popped one into my hand. I hesitated, then held it out to Lynn. She took it and dry swallowed it without hesitation.
“Are you sure this’ll work?” I asked.
“I’m fairly sure she has what’s called a hemicrania continua. It’s a type of odd headache that persists on one side of the head and never quite goes away. They’re rare, but usually not life-threatening, and best of all, they respond extremely well to indomethacin.”
Lynn perked up. “Extremely well?”
“As in I think you’ll start feeling better tomorrow, and if you keep taking the pills, the headache might never come back.”
She gaped at him. “You’re joking?”
“I’m not. Assuming I’m right, which I usually am.”
She laughed and stared at me, and I only shook my head. “I’ve never heard of hemi-whatsit before.”
“Hemicrania continua. Go ahead, look it up if you want, it’s a real thing.”
I gave him a look. “I trust you.”
“Take the pills twice a day,” he said, leaning toward Lynn. “If you ever feel the headache come back, contact me and I’ll write you another prescription for them. If you have what I think you have, they’ll work.”
She stared at him for a second, then burst into tears.
Dean took a step back, surprised and not sure how to respond. I laughed a little and sat on the edge of Lynn’s bed, putting am arm around her shoulders.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” she said, sobbing and laughing at the same time. “It’s just, I’ve had this headache for so long and I never thought I’d actually get it to go away. Now I feel like I finally have a chance at a normal life. It’s almost too much to bear.”
Dean smiled a little and patted her shoulder. “You’ll be okay, I promise.”
I rolled my eyes at him. For such a charming, handsome man, he had a shitty bedside manner. “Thank you,” I said.
He nodded. “Doing my job.”
“Really, thank you,” Lynn said, wiping her eyes with the sheets and sitting up straight. “When should I start to feel something?”