There was a pause.
Almost too long.
“No,” he said, with a smile in his voice. “I don’t believe we do.”
I felt silly for asking.
But something about him unsettled me. I couldn’t say what. Something in the way he breathed. It was too careful. Like he was holding it.
Still, he was kind.
He pulled a stool up close to the table so we were at the same height. Most doctors stood over me and talked down. He sat.
He explained my condition in clear, patient language. He didn’t use big words to impress me, and he didn’t use small words because he thought I couldn’t understand. He just talked to me like a person.
When he started describing new experimental procedures that were being studied in Europe, I braced myself. I’d heard doctors talk about miracle cures before. They always sounded like they were selling something. Or chasing their name in a medical journal.
