Robin Cook - Mindbend

Jennifer stared at the man facing her. He had the same polished good looks, but his face was slack, as if he were exhausted. His hair was also a little different. It seemed bushier, and instead of his usual hurried manner, he gave Jennifer the impression that he actually wanted to know what was on her mind.

“I guess I’ve been feeling pretty good,” she said.

“You don’t sound very enthusiastic.”

“Well…,” said Jennifer, “I’m less tired, but the morning sickness has gotten worse, no matter what I do about diet.”

“How do you feel about this pregnancy?” asked Dr. Vandermer. “Sometimes emotions play a role in our well-being.”

Jennifer looked at Dr. Vandermer’s face. He seemed genuinely concerned. “To tell the truth,” she said, “I feel very ambivalent about being pregnant.” Up until that moment she’d been unwilling to admit it, even to her mother. But Dr. Vandermer did not seem disapproving.

“Second thoughts are very common,” he said gently. “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel.”

Encouraged by his attitude, Jennifer found herself telling him all of her fears about her career and her relationship with Adam. She admitted that Vandermer had been right; it wasn’t the proper time for them to have a child. She talked for nearly ten minutes, saved from tears only by an odd lack of affect in Vandermer’s expression. He was concerned but in some way remote.

When she finished, he said softly, “I appreciate your confiding in me. It’s not healthy to bottle up your feelings. In fact, they may be related to your continued morning sickness, which should have abated by now. I think that we will have to try you on some medication.” Turning to Nancy, who had just returned to the room, he said, “Would you go down to the supply room and bring back a handful of pregdolen samples?”

Nancy left without a word.

“Now then,” said Dr. Vandermer, “let’s get a good look at you.”

The examination included ultrasonography, which Dr. Vandermer described as a method by which images were produced as ultrasonic waves echoed off the baby’s tissues. Jennifer wasn’t sure she understood, but Dr. Vandermer assured her it was both painless and harmless to mother and fetus alike, and indeed it was. Although a technician came in to run the unit, Dr. Vandermer insisted on doing the test himself. On a screen much like a television’s Jennifer saw the outline of her baby.

“Do you care to know the sex of the child?” asked Dr. Vandermer, straightening up.

“I guess,” said Jennifer, not having given the matter much thought.

“I can’t be sure,” said Dr. Vandermer, “but if I had to guess it looks like a boy.”

Jennifer nodded. For the moment it didn’t make any difference if it were a boy or a girl, but she wondered how Adam felt.

Back in the examination room, Dr. Vandermer sat down at the small desk and began to write up his findings. He dismissed Nancy, who left without a word, obviously displeased to have had her job curtailed.

Jennifer sat on the table, wondering whether she should dress. Finally, Dr. Vandermer turned to face her. “Aside from the morning sickness, you’re doing fine, and maybe this will stop the nausea.” He stacked the samples next to her and wrote out a prescription as well. “Take one pill three times a day.”

Jennifer nodded. She was willing to try anything.

“Now,” said Dr. Vandermer in his new monotone voice, “there are two things I want to discuss with you. First, the next time I see you it will be at the Julian Clinic.”

Jennifer felt her heart skip a beat. The image of Cheryl slumping to the floor flashed before her. She could see the blood and feel the icy panic.

“Jennifer, are you all right?” asked Dr. Vandermer.

“Maybe I should lie down,” said Jennifer, feeling suddenly dizzy.

Dr. Vandermer helped her to lie back.

“I’m terribly sorry,” said Jennifer. “I’m all right now. Why will I be seeing you at the Julian Clinic?”

“Because I’ve decided to join their staff,” said Dr. Vandermer, checking her pulse. “I’m no longer interested in private practice. And I can assure you that as a patient you will get better care at the Julian Clinic. Now, do you feel all right?”

Jennifer nodded.

“Is this the first time in your pregnancy you’ve felt faint like this?”

“Yes,” said Jennifer and went on to describe Cheryl’s unexpected death.

“What an awful experience for you,” Dr. Vandermer said. “Especially being pregnant. Fortunately, such a clotting disorder is extremely rare, and I hope you don’t blame the Julian Clinic. I heard about that case and I happen to know that Miss Tedesco had withheld certain aspects of her medical history. Her extensive drug usage had caused hematologic problems that did not show up in routine lab work. Had Miss Tedesco been more forthright, she’d undoubtedly be alive today. I’m only telling you this so you won’t have any doubts about the clinic.”

“I’d heard good things about it before I went with Cheryl. And I must admit I was impressed with the staff’s caring attitude.”

“That’s one of the reasons I’m going there. The doctors aren’t involved with any of the competitive nonsense associate with private practice.”

Jennifer sat up, relieved to find that the dizziness had completely passed.

“Are you going to be all right now?” asked Dr. Vandermer.

“I think so,” said Jennifer.

“The second thing I wanted to discuss with you is the possibility of doing amniocentesis.”

Jennifer felt another rush of light-headedness, but this time it passed quickly. “You’ve changed your mind,” she said. It was a statement, not a question.

“That is true,” said Dr. Vandermer. “Initially, I was convinced that your brother’s problem had been congenital, meaning a chromosomal change after conception. But I got the slides from the hospital where your brother died, and the lab thinks the problem may be hereditary. Given that possibility, it would be a mistake not to take advantage of all the technology at our disposal.”

“Would the test show if my child had the same problem?” asked Jennifer.

“Absolutely,” said Dr. Vandermer. “But we should do it soon, since it takes several weeks to get the results. If we wait too long, it will be difficult to do anything if the result is positive.”

“By ‘doing anything’ you mean an abortion?” said Jennifer.

“Yes,” said Dr. Vandermer. “The chances of a problem are very small, but with the ambivalence you’ve voiced, I think that you would be able to handle such an eventuality.”

“I’ll have to talk with my husband and my parents,” said Jennifer.

She left the office nervous about the prospect of amniocentesis but glad she had a doctor as caring as Vandermer. She’d have to tell Adam that she’d totally reversed her original impression of the man.

Adam never quite lost consciousness. He was vaguely aware of being dragged into Percy’s living room and unceremoniously dumped onto the couch. He felt his wallet being removed, and then replaced. That little sequence didn’t jibe with his expectations, and puzzling it over, he shook off his stupor.

The first thing he did was search for his glasses, which were suddenly thrust into his hand. He put them on and the room came into focus. Sitting in front of him was a heavyset man in a blue suit and a white shirt open at the collar.

“Good morning,” said the man. “Welcome back.”

Adam moved. Nothing hurt, which was surprising.

“Unless you want to ride down to the police station, Mr. Schonberg, you’d better tell me what you were doing in this apartment.”