I got a big smile. When my doctor finally called me in, thank God, I was still a little shaky. As I left the waiting room, I took one last, brief glance back at him. He was still staring at the floor, making little meeping noises to himself, frown unchanged. I was tempted to ask my neurologist about him, but I'd made that mistake before.
Doctors are worse than shrinks that way.
He didn't have much to tell me about my blackouts either. But come back in three months, and if you're still having them, we'll run another MRI on you. Back to the Machine, that amusement park ride designed by Josef Mengele. Might as well run another MRI over me. He chuckled at that.