She was a young girl in her sixties (there—I just earned myself some brownie points with the elderly women who read my stories). They were a family of four—one husband and two sons. “I’ve been having headaches for a few weeks. My GP ordered an MRI of the brain, and they found this,” she said, handing me the films. “I don’t want surgery,” she interjected even before I could say anything. I sighed internally. Whenever a patient’s gut instinct is not to have an operation, and for whatever reason we do go ahead with it, I’ve more often than not had a complication, even if it’s something minor.

I asked her a little more about her pain. She said it was making her miserable. Vomiting was a new symptom over the past three days. Her husband added that she even had a brief bout of unconsciousness yesterday, but recovered completely in a minute. “These are all red flags,” I warned and began to examine her. “Stretch your arms out straight in front of you, palms facing up, and close your eyes,” I instructed. The left arm drifted down considerably, indicating a problem in the right half of her brain.