Second Opinion Read Free Page B

the label du jour for a series of conditions. Somewhere in the middle of the spectrum was the offshoot first described by Austrian pediatrician Hans Asperger in 1944.
    Asperger syndrome.
    For her immeasurably brilliant brother, the gray matter once destined for learning such things as nonverbal communication, social grace, small talk, interpersonal pragmatics, group dynamics, and executive function had largely been usurped by an understanding at his mind's deepest levels of electronics and computer science. The groupings of neurons responsible for fine motor control and hand-eye coordination had yielded in large measure to the remarkable ability to focus for long periods of time on those things that interested him.
    It didn't matter that he and Thea were probably different in as many ways as they were similar. If not the same, their diagnoses were certainly kissing cousins, layered on their unique personalities. Thea forced her focus from her brother back to their father. The injury to Petros's brain stem was indeed a frightening one.
    The cerebral lobes and cerebellar hemispheres were the parts of the brain largely responsible for thinking, balance, and movement. Outgoing efferent nerve fibers from them coursed through the midbrain on their way to activate the muscles of the body. At the same time, incoming afferent fibers were skirting the central midbrain, carrying sensory information such as pain, light touch, and position up to the cerebrum and cerebellum for processing.
    The hemorrhage in Petros's midbrain, as described by Niko, had probably effectively sliced across the efferent bundles like a blade, killing neurons and disconnecting the upper nervous system from the lower—thought from movement, intellect from physical ability, reason from function. The result: paralysis involving literally every muscle in the body.
    Behind her, she sensed Niko and Selene, and the team from Beaumont standing patiently by the doorway. Dr. Sharon Karsten, a onetime endocrinologist, had been the president of the sprawling medical center for nearly as long as Thea could remember. Under her guidance, the hospital had enhanced its worldwide reputation as one of the places to go for second opinions, knotty diagnostic conundrums, and top-notch surgical specialists.
    One of her most successful brainchildren was Medicon, Inc.— highly paid, highly trained physicians, who were scattered around the globe, networking and advising doctors to the wealthy, the influential, and the powerful. One product they were offering, in addition to their knowledge and experience, was the hospital's renowned five-day Executive Health Evaluation—a hundred thousand dollars' worth of the most sophisticated medical testing and specialist evaluation available anywhere. EHE was based in the luxurious Beaumont Inn and Spa, located on the grounds of the hospital.
    With Karsten was Dr. Scott Hartnett, tall, handsome, and intellectual, the director of development for the Beaumont, and still a part-time practicing internal medicine physician at the Sperelakis Institute. Thea remembered her father once saying that if the government could generate money for the country the way Scott Hartnett could for the Beaumont, there would be no national debt.
    And finally, there was chief of nursing, Amy Musgrave, five feet tall, if that, introduced to Thea as the glue that held the entire Beaumont system together—a system that now included three satellite hospitals in Boston, and expanding facilities in Washington, D.C., and Charlotte. Thea had never met Musgrave, but immediately took to her straightforward manner and powerful dedication to her nurses.
    It was Musgrave who first stepped to Petros's bedside.
    'Is there anything further you can think of that we should be doing, Doctor?'
    Thea shook her head. 'It seems he's getting remarkable care,' she said.
    'Your father was— is —a wonderful man. My nurses love him. He treats them as equals, and most of the time, at least, he