Bennett The Brave

Chapter 35

Chapter 35

My second and third seizures were apparently milder than the first one at the start of the summer. They both happened at school, toward the end of September, a few days apart. You can imagine what sort of big news it was when I, all-of-a-sudden, go blank in the middle of answering a history question and exit reality for a half an hour. That sort of thing doesn't go down in a small high school like mine, without there being an immediate burst of buzz and gossip about it. What made it especially newsworthy was that a teacher got in trouble because of the third seizure. I had been kept home the day following number two, but released back to school the next day, only to have the third one two days later.

The teacher in question was my wood shop instructor, apparently put off by the fact that I was on restriction from using any power tools until we had a better handle on what was going on with me. For whatever reason, he seemed to feel I was some sort of malingerer who managed to put one over on the school administration. When I froze at one of the work stations, he became enraged and tried to shake me out of it. This, apparently caused me collapse onto the table, gashing my temple with a handheld dove-tail saw, whereupon I bled spectacularly all over the place. I don't remember this, of course, I wasn't really there.

Naturally, all this prompted a new round of tests and visits to the Albany Medical Center. When nothing yielded any answers, my parents were justifiably frustrated and upset. The neurologist at Albany then told my parents that if they were willing to take me, he could refer me to an out-of-state specialist he knew, with considerable experience with cases like mine. My parents never hesitated, and took the referral. I wasn't looking forward to traveling anywhere for more medical tests, but then again, I really wanted to stop having seizures. One night, at dinner, the conversation turned to the subject at hand.

"Bennett," my father said, pausing over his roast beef and mashed potatoes, "we've made an appointment for you to see a pediatric neurologist and he's agreed to take you next week."

"Okay," I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant while suddenly losing my appetite.

"So we've made arrangements with your school to have a few days off while we travel to do that. You'll need to get your homework and assignments from your teachers so you don't get too far behind."

"How far away is this place?" I asked, incredulous, "Where are we going?"

"Well, it's not that far," he said, barely suppressing a smile, "You've been in the neighborhood before."

"Huh?" I was thoroughly confused.

"Bennett," he said patiently, "We're bringing you to see Dr. Wellsford at the Newington Children's Hospital." Newington... now that did sound familiar, but I could not make the connection; I must have looked puzzled. "You know," he said, "just outside of Hartford?"

"Hartford?" I brightened, "You mean near Neal?"

"Yes Bennett, about twenty minutes away from Neal's home." Dad smiled broadly.

"In fact," Mom added, "Neal's family has graciously offered for us to stay with them for the week."

"Really?" I exclaimed, "Holy cow!"

"Now, Bennett," Dad was all seriousness again, "We're going to be spending most of our days finding out what's going on with your noggin. Besides, Neal is away at school during the week, so you won't be seeing much of him until the weekend."

My shoulders sagged, I had sort of forgotten that Neal attended a private, boarding school during the week and only came home on weekends. Still, that meant that, barring anything crazy happening, I'd at least get to spend a day or two with him that neither of us had counted on before Christmas. I grinned to myself as I felt that special lurch in my belly and a surging swell in my pants. If there ever was an upside to having to go see a doctor, that was it.