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Show 72 unlikely combination of anesthesia and stiff-man syndrome. I remember that I was not there then. Not really. "Scares us to death when patients do that," he continues. He is still smiling, not at all angry with me that I did not wake up on time. "I've been looking through all your records and all this stuff" - he rustles the articles in the air like a bunch of dried autumn leaves on a twig - "about the chemistry of stiff-man's and I'm going to devise a protocol especially for you." He is looking at me expectantly. What am I supposed to say? "That's great," I manage to communicate with my rusty voice. "I would need your permission, in a way, because I want to write - to publish - a paper about you," he continues. "Of course, your name will not be in it anywhere, but, still, I want to make sure it's alright with you." I am excited that he is taking such an interest. I have no desire to never wake up from another future, evidently improper, anesthesia. "Of course you have my permission," I tell him. I am honored, in a strange way, to be a part of medical progress as concerns stiff-man syndrome. |
