do you have any metal plates in your skull?
any shrapnel lodged anywhere in your body?
no cardiac pacemaker, i assume -- iron filings near your eyes?
you don't work with sheet metal, do you?
left here.
aneurism clips in your brain?
do you suffer from claustrophobia?
right, then jog left. they do.
you've had no head trauma, no serious viral infections you can recall, you haven't been out of the country, you're not a drug user, you have no history of migraines.  i suppose i could open up your skull in the operating room and then decide what to do, but i'd rather take a few pictures first, wouldn't you? she pushes through a set of double doors.
it creates an electromagnetic field thirty thousand times stronger than the earth's. that stimulates your brain's protons to align themselves. then we shoot radio waves into you, which knocks the protons out of alignment. they then realign themselves, sending out radio signals we record on the scanner. the computer reads the signals and makes a series of detailed cross-sections of the layers of tissue. tom looks at the machine, then back at her.
it's so nice you and maggie finally came to see me at work.
yes, it usually is at first, but it
no, you'll want it loud. we're
go ahead. the technician enters some commands on a keyboard.
did he bring any music?
no tumors, no growths, no scars or lesions, no intrusions or damaged tissue of any kind. except for one tiny abnormality, your brain anatomy is textbook. physically, anyway.
well, it's so insignificant it's hardly worth mentioning. she leans forward to one of the screens and points to a spot on a cross-section. elizabeth it's the parietal lobe. here. there's a slight distension, just the tiniest bulge here in the arc of the crescent. that's uncommon.
one in a half million, maybe, it doesn't really have a name. but it isn't consequential. wouldn't have any effect on cognitive processes.
maggie. i said nothing physical.