Chapter 15
It was well past the day of their agreed upon appointment when Rowland Knowles finally returned to Carrie’s office to discuss his condition.
“I must say, Mr. Knowles, I was beginning to give up hope of seeing you again.”
“I am sorry,” the older man replied, taking off his hat. “I’ve been feeling progressively worse and had much to accomplish. I meant to send word, but . . . well, here I am.”
Carrie nodded and directed him to a chair in her examination room. “I can well imagine you are having an increasingly more difficult time. After going over all of your files, I can honestly say that I’m surprised you are still alive.”
He chuckled and sat down. “Frankly, I’m just as surprised. The doctor in Denver thought I’d certainly be dead by now. The one in Kansas City gave me a little more time. Do you suppose I should write to the Denver physician and tell him he was wrong?”
The man was teasing, and Carrie smiled. “Doctors seldom like to know they were wrong. It’s a pride thing, I suppose.”
“And what was your conclusion? Do you have a new date to offer me?”
At least the man was able to deal with his condition without rage or tears. Carrie found herself liking Knowles.
“I agree that given the information we have, your situation is grave. I would also agree that given your symptoms, it is most likely that you have a fast-growing tumor in your brain. I wouldn’t go so far as to say it’s a spider-cell glioma.
That can really only be ascertained after death during an autopsy.
“And while I also agree that the tumor is most likely inoperable due to brain surgery being in its infancy, I would like to consider options to at least give you relief for the time you have, because even if the tumor is benign, at the rate it’s growing, I can’t say that the odds of recovery are any better than were it malignant.
If my colleagues’ assessments are correct. ”
He smiled. “You are most kind, Dr. Vogel-Duval. What kind of options do you have in mind?”
“Well, there is the possibility we could drill into the cranium and relieve the pressure on the brain. This won’t stop the tumor’s growth, but part of the reason for your pain is the increased pressure caused by the enlargement of the tumor. Drilling several holes in the bone could allow relief.”
“Could, but not necessarily would,” Knowles said, shaking his head ever so slightly. “That type of thing was discussed in Kansas City.” He gave a shrug. “I have already pretty much come to terms with the fact that little can be done.”
“I am sorry. The brain is quite complex. We are just starting to learn about it. When you consider all human organs, the brain is not only the most difficult to understand, but also the hardest to gain access to thanks to being encased in bone.”
“I do appreciate that you would take time to consider my case.”
“I will endeavor to help you through to the end.” Carrie wanted to make it clear that he needn’t face this alone. “If you like, I can come and check on you every day and make sure you have enough medicine to help with the pain.”
“That’s very kind of you. It would be something of a comfort to know that someone would be aware of my condition and know when my final hours come. I would like that very much, Dr. Vogel-Duval.”
“Just call me Dr. Duval.” She wasn’t sure why she’d said that. Taking Spencer’s name had only been planned for a short time. Now, however, things were changing, and she had to admit confusion over where it would lead.
“You’re newly married, the newspaper article said.”
Carrie was momentarily taken aback. “Yes, uh, we married shortly before moving to Cheyenne.”
“And your husband? Where is he from?”
“Philadelphia originally. Though the last few years he lived in Chicago. That’s where we met. I attended college there.”
“So he’s a doctor as well?”
“No.” She thought of Spencer’s attention to detail and knew he’d make a good doctor if he wanted to go in that direction. “He’s a . . . city police officer. He’s been in law enforcement for years.”
“Ah, a good job to have, keeping law and order. And did he make the suggestion to move to Cheyenne?”
Carrie wasn’t sure how to respond. She didn’t want to give insight into Spencer’s real task. “No. I am from Cheyenne and wanted to move home. My family is here. But surely you read that in the newspaper as well.”
“I hadn’t recalled that until just now.” He smiled and got to his feet. “Dr. Duval, I do appreciate all that you’ve done. What do I owe you?”
Carrie hoped that he wouldn’t be offended with what she wanted to offer next.
“I . . . well, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I am a research doctor.
I’m working hard to gain information on the brain and to be able to find solutions for a variety of problems that stem from injury and disease.
I would like to propose something that might seem odd. ”
“You have me intrigued, go on.” The man looked more than a little curious.
“I would treat you free of charge. I would come daily to your home and assess your situation and aid in seeing that you have the best medicine available to ease your pain and suffering. In return, I would only ask for permission to perform an autopsy on you after your death.”
“That’s all?” He chuckled. “I’ll be dead and will hardly care what you do at that point. Of course you may perform your autopsy. Perhaps it would even help someone else in years to come.”
“That’s exactly what I hope to do with the research gained.”
Knowles got to his feet. “I’ve already arranged for my burial with the local undertaker. Do I need to sign something for you? Perhaps let him know?”
Carrie nodded and produced the legal form.
“It would be best if it were witnessed by a friend or notary. That would prevent any problems in the future. I would like to be able to keep your brain for study. Often times, organs are studied quickly and replaced in the body cavity for burial, but we would take your brain out and keep it for long-term study.” She looked at him, hoping he wouldn’t change his mind.
“It would benefit us both if you were to notify the funeral director. Or I can.”
“I’ll get someone reliable to witness my signing and deliver this paper to you by this afternoon.
I’ll let the undertaker know as well.” He took the paper and glanced at it.
“I haven’t lived the best life. It would be nice to know that I might do something, even in death, that would benefit mankind. ”
“This definitely would.” Carrie hoped her assurance wasn’t overly eager. It was hard for nonmedical persons to understand just how much could be learned about the body with the use of autopsies.
She showed Mr. Knowles out just as Dr. Bruce Compton was coming up her walk. The wind seemed determined to blow in gusts, nearly taking the hats of both men as they tipped in acknowledgment of each other in passing.
“Dr. Compton, won’t you come in?”
“Thank you.” He entered the house with a firm grip on his hat. “Good day to you, Dr. Vogel-Duval.”
She started to correct him but held her tongue. “What can I do for you today?”
“I wanted to discuss your interest in the brain.”
“You just missed meeting a patient of mine. Quite a complex individual with a probable brain tumor that is growing at an alarming rate.”
“Do tell.”
She ushered the doctor into her examination room. “Have a seat. Would you care for tea or coffee?”
“No, but thank you. I just wanted to stop by. I’ve meant to do so since our first encounter. I realized Dr. Lyons was hardly receptive, but I was most intrigued. Especially after learning that you were engaged to marry Dr. Oswald Nelson.”
“But I also told you that he stole my research.”
“Yes, and so I reread the last few articles that he wrote.” Dr. Compton fixed her with a questioning look. “Do you swear to me those things he wrote were based on your own findings?”
“I do. God knows the truth of it, Dr. Compton.”
“Then I want to make a proposition. I’ve discussed it at length with my wife, and she agrees with me.”
“About what?” Carrie was more than a little confused.
“It is my desire that we work together. I have a large laboratory and examination area. I have been working to create a hospital of sorts that would work solely with patients who were suffering from brain injury and disease. My wife’s father recently passed, and she is about to inherit a large enough sum of money that I can build a place just east of town.
I think together you and I can accomplish great things. ”
“I don’t know what to say. I hardly know you and certainly have no idea of your work, nor you of mine.
” Carrie was more than intrigued and excited at the prospect of creating such a place as Dr. Compton described, but she didn’t want to put herself in another position like that which she had with Oswald.
“I realize that,” Dr. Compton began. “I have some things I’ve been working on, as well as my journals.
I’d be happy to let you read them to know the direction in which I’ve been working.
I don’t expect you to make a decision this moment.
Pray about it. I know from talking to your father that you’re a woman of God. ”
“I’m rather surprised at your willingness to set up business with a woman.” Carrie couldn’t help but voice her concerns. “Most male doctors have little tolerance for women in the medical field.”
Dr. Compton’s laugh wasn’t what Carrie had expected. “My own mother was a physician. It was her love of medicine that sent me in this direction. She was of the utmost intelligence and ability when it came to surgery. There was none like her, and she saved many a life and limb during the war.”
The pride he held for his mother was evident. “Maybe I’ve heard of her. What was her name?”
“Dr. Sarah Compton.”
The name was unfamiliar to Carrie, but that hardly mattered. “I don’t know of her, but I must say I’m intrigued by your idea. It’s been the same I’ve longed for.”