Scatterbrained

“In retrospect, I wish I’d come in sooner,” Glia said to the back of the lab coat that was topped with a blond bob. “Six months ago was when this started.”

The bob nodded and clicked through some screens. “Yes, you mentioned. Short term memory loss can be a sign of lots of things. You said you’ve been particularly stressed lately?”

“Oof,” she muttered. “Well, my routine got disrupted. I’m a bit of a homebody. Made me rather twitchy, I’m afraid. Upset with my husband, too. It just took so long to get everything done because I kept forgetting what I was doing.”

A wave of clicking followed, more than Glia thought necessary, and her lips tightened. Couldn’t Doctor What’s-her-name turn around and have a conversation for a few minutes?

“Any confusion? Trouble recognizing people?”

Glia kicked her leg restlessly and wondered if forgetting the right words counted. The antiseptic smell made her look longingly at the door.

“Mrs. Leopold?” The blonde bob finally turned around, spinning on the brown wheeled stool.

“What?” she snapped. Her eyes ran over the lab coat’s embroidery. Dr. Falstaff, the blue letters read, but the other woman looked far too young to have gone through medical school and years of residency. Where was Dr. Pikelstein, anyway?

“Any trouble with things you’ve known for a long time? Maybe another language, or problems recognizing someone you’ve known a long time?”

“Where is Dr. Pikelstein, dear?” Glia smiled at the young woman. “I’d love to hear about your skincare routine sometime.”

“Hmm.” A spin, and that dratted clicking. “I’m ordering some blood tests and several types of scans. You’re a little young for Parkinson’s or Alzheimer’s, so we’ll look into whether this could be stress related, or perhaps a vitamin B12 deficiency.”

“The tests will take so long,” Glia said wistfully. “I don’t suppose I could go see the sunlight for a while?”

“We can do the bloodwork right now in just a few minutes.” The woman’s voice was firm. “Did someone drive you here?”

“My Harold,” Glia whispered with a smile.

“I’ll go get him from the waiting room and send in the nurse for the bloodwork, all right?” The blonde bobbed her head one last time, and exited. She left the door cracked.

Glia could see sunlight atop the hallway’s industrial carpet. Perhaps her Harold would be in the sunlight, where it was warm and comforting, just as he was.

He’d been especially soothing that time he’d found her wandering the neighborhood, even cleaning off her face with a wet washcloth and helping her change out of ruined clothing. One of her spells, he’d called it.

She did wish he’d relax, although it was probably too late for that worry crease to fade.

She edged her shoes onto the room’s tile floor and followed the sunlight, hoping for Harold. She was cold, so cold, inside this industrial prison that looked like every other doctor’s office across the United States.

“Glia!” The baritone was still strong, after all these years.

His voice penetrated her fugue, and she shook her head. Warm again, with her feet planted firmly in the grass, with a large lump in her peripheral vision. Vaguely, her face and shirt felt wet, but that wasn’t what mattered now. She swiped a hand over her mouth and turned with a wide grin to greet her husband and a blonde woman in a lab coat.

The woman let out a shrill scream and backed away, tripping over the curb and landing on an outstretched arm on the hard asphalt parking lot surface.

Glia looked down, ashamed, although she couldn’t have explained why. Brains glistened amongst spring grass stems at her feet. She crouched, letting the remnants squish through her fingers.

“Glia! No!”

The blonde lunged for Harold’s arm, holding him back.

Glia growled, unblinking gazed fixed upon her next meal.

***

This week, Cedar Sanderson prompted me with “scatter brained took on a whole new meaning,” and I’d just had a conversation with Spouse about a zombie virus that manifested like normal (and abnormal) aging, taking its time until it was too late…how’d I do?

My prompt went to Becky Jones, about ink suspended within stone.