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to his inexperienced eye. But what really caught his attention was how much they resembled Helen Cabot’s tumors, as George had said. And like hers, theywere all in the cerebrum. That had been a point of particular interest with Helen Cabot, since medulloblastomas generally occurred in the cerebellum, not the cerebrum.
    “I know statistically you have to think of a metastasis from lung, colon, or prostate,” George said. “But what are the chances we’re seeing a tumor similar to Helen Cabot’s? In other words, multifocal primary brain cancer like medulloblastoma.”
    Harry shook his head. “Remember, when you hear hoof-beats you should think of horses, not zebras. Helen Cabot’s case is unique even though there have been a couple of similar cases recently reported around the country. Nonetheless, I’ll be willing to wager anyone that we’re looking at metastatic tumors here.”
    “What service do you think he should be on?” George asked.
    “Six of one, half dozen of another,” Harry said. “If he’s on neurology, we’ll need an internal medicine consult for the metastatic workup. If he’s on internal medicine, he’ll need the neuro consult.”
    “Since we took Cabot,” George suggested, “why don’t you guys take him. You interact better with neurosurgery anyway.”
    “Fine by me,” Harry said.
    Sean groaned inwardly. All his work doing the history and physical was for naught. Since the patient would be admitted to neurology, the medical student on neurology would get credit for it. But at least that meant Sean was free.
    Sean motioned to George that he’d see him later on rounds, then slipped out of the CAT scan room. Although he was behind on his off-service notes, Sean took the time for a visit. Having been thinking and talking about Helen Cabot, he wanted to see her. Getting off the elevator on the seventh floor, he walked directly down to room 708 and knocked on the half-open door.
    Despite her shaved head and a series of blue marker stains on her scalp, Helen Cabot still managed to look attractive. Her features were delicate, emphasizing her large, bright greeneyes. Her skin had the translucent perfection of a model. Yet she was pale, and there was little doubt she was ill. Still, her face lit up when she saw Sean.
    “My favorite doctor,” she said.
    “Doctor-to-be,” Sean corrected her. He didn’t enjoy the charade of playing doctor like many medical students. Ever since he graduated from high school he’d felt like an imposter, play-acting first at the role of a Harvard undergraduate, then an MIT fellow, and now a Harvard medical student.
    “Have you heard the good news?” Helen asked. She sat up despite her weakness from the many seizures she’d been having.
    “Tell me,” Sean said.
    “I’ve been accepted into the Forbes Cancer Center protocol,” Helen said.
    “Fantastic!” Sean said. “Now I can tell you I’m heading there myself. I’ve been afraid to mention it until I heard you were going too.”
    “What a marvelous coincidence!” Helen said. “Now I’ll have a friend there. I suppose you know that with my particular type of tumor they’ve had a one hundred percent remission.”
    “I know.” Sean said. “Their results are unbelievable. But it’s no coincidence we’ll be down there together. It was your case that made me aware of the Forbes. As I’ve mentioned to you, my research involves the molecular basis of cancer. So discovering a clinic where they are having hundred-percent success treating a specific cancer is extraordinarily exciting for me. I’m amazed I hadn’t read about it in the medical literature. Anyway, I want to go down there and find out exactly what they’re doing.”
    “Their treatment is still experimental,” Helen said. “My father emphasized that to me. We think the reason they’ve avoided publishing their results is that they first want to be absolutely sure of their claims. But whether they’ve published or not, I can’t wait