Page 17 of Hidden
He dropped his gaze back to the papers as he weighed her answer. She didn’t seem to lose time—so not a true blackout. But she clearly lost interactions and brief moments.
“What is your intake of alcohol and drugs, if any?” he asked.
“No drugs,” she said without hesitation. “I saw enough of that where I grew up that I steer well clear of it.”
She seemed sincere. He couldn’t help but wonder, though, how hard it was to be an actress in this day and age without some “assistance.”
“What about prescription drugs?”
She shook her head. “Nothing regular. I had a fall on set last year, and they gave me a prescription for some of that ibuprofen-on-steroids. They wanted to give me something stronger. But like I said, unless it’s the difference between life and death, I’m not interested in the other stuff.”
He knew the drug she referred to. It really was the same ibuprofen you could get over the counter, only four times as strong.
“And drinking?”
“Cocktails and wine and all the usual kind of stuff, but I dislike being drunk.” She paused then added, “Well, to be more precise, I hate beinghungover. As in, I loathe it. So yes, I drink. But I don’t think I’ve had enough in one day or night to give me a hangover since my twenties.”
Again, he believed her. Yes, she acted for a living, but she was also a human. And after his years in the ED, he could generally spot a liar before they even opened their mouth.
“How are you with enclosed spaces?” he asked as he finished typing her information into the temporary medical record he’d created for her.
She laughed. “I once did a film that took place in a caved-in tunnel. The entire film. I’m fine.”
He saved the record, looked up, then smiled. “An MRI machine is a little different from a Hollywood set. But I’ll take that to mean you don’t need any sedatives?”
“That drug thing again, Asher. If it’s not a matter of life or death, I’ll forgo the drugs, thanks.”
“That’s fair, so long as you promise one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“If you have any problems, if you start to experience anything that might signal one of the manic episodes you noted on your paperwork, you let me know.”
Her eyes searched his face then she nodded. “I will. Thank you.”
“Are we ready?” Sofia asked. His attention switched to her. He’d almost forgotten she was in the room with them.
“We’re ready,” Asher replied, pushing back from his seat. “The last appointment was thirty minutes ago, and I asked the tech to leave the machine on. It should be ready when we get there. And it will just be us.”
The two women followed him through the labyrinth of halls that led from the administrative offices to the imaging department. Less than twenty minutes after arriving, Ellie lay on the patient platform, and Asher set the test to begin.
After moving to the observation area, he flicked on a couple of computers then glanced at the dashboard of instruments monitoring the machine’s progress. The test would take thirty minutes, and he had no intention of taking his eyes off Ellie. He’d seen some of the strongest people he knew react poorly to the enclosed space.
“Thanks for doing this, Ash,” Sofia said. She stood behind him, leaning against the wall. He glanced back to find her with her arms crossed, a worried expression on her face as she watched Ellie disappear into the MRI tube.
He could hardly blame her for her concern. From what Ellie had shared, her symptoms seemed a hodgepodge of incidents. And no doubt she’d only touched on the tip of the iceberg when they’d talked. Coupled with her behavior after the accident, he found the situation even more unsettling than he had that night.
None of which he’d share with Sofia, though. Instead, he lifted a shoulder in response, then asked, “How’s she doing? Really?”
Sofia didn’t answer right away. “She seems fine now. But this has her freaked out. The accumulation of it all.”
He could understand that. He’d seen many of his cancer patients struggle with memory loss—some from the cancer itself and others from the cocktail of medications they took. But even if he hadn’t had that exposure, as a human being, he could imagine how uncertain, how out of control, it would feel to have noticeable gaps in his memory.
“I won’t say anything Ellie doesn’t give me permission to say, but does Josh know what’s going on?”
“Some,” Sofia said. “She’s not hiding anything from him. He knows we’re here and why. Ellie didn’t feel up to telling him all the details, though.”
Asher nodded. Ellie needed to dig into the details with her primary care doctor. Or her therapist. But he didn’t fault her for not wanting to divulge everything to anyone else.
