Ginger Weiss’s negative test results at Boston Memorial turn an exhaustive search for a physical explanation into a devastating uncertainty: her fugue episodes had no discernible pathological cause, and the prospect of a medical career seemed to vanish with the diagnosis. The results arrived four days after the fugue that followed her operation on Viola Fletcher, when George Hannaby had led her out of a snowy alley where she had regained consciousness.

The Search for a Physical Cause

For three days, Ginger’s doctors subjected her to an extensive battery of tests, repeating several procedures to cross-check the findings. The workup included an EEG, cranial X-rays, sonograms, pneumoventriculography, a lumbar puncture, and an angiogram. They examined her brain for tumors, cystic masses, abscesses, clots, aneurysms, and other abnormalities; considered malignancies affecting the perineural nerves; and checked for chronic intracranial pressure. They also analyzed spinal fluid for abnormal protein, bleeding, low sugar that might indicate bacterial infection, and signs of fungal infection.

The rigor of the investigation reflected more than the availability of modern diagnostic tools. Ginger’s physicians were conscientious in their care, and she was one of their own colleagues. On Friday afternoon, George brought her the final results and the consultants’ last opinions himself, rather than leaving the news to the oncologist or brain specialist overseeing the case. Ginger, in blue pajamas Rita Hannaby had fetched from her Beacon Hill apartment, was reading a paperback mystery and trying to believe the seizures had a readily correctable cause. George’s personal visit made her suspect otherwise.

What the Results Meant

The tests found no disease, injury, or congenital defect. With no physical cause identified for Ginger’s fugue episodes, the specialists’ conclusions pointed toward psychological illness rather than a condition that surgery, antibiotics, or medication could straightforwardly correct. Psychotherapy offered the only hope of ending the episodes, but the prospects were uncertain: the doctors could not claim a high cure rate for patients with recurring fugues, which could also be an early indication of schizophrenia. The assessment left open the possibility that Ginger might manage the condition, while making institutionalization a serious risk.

That distinction made the negative findings more frightening, not less. A physical ailment might have proved treatable, allowing Ginger to return to surgery after recovery. Even if psychotherapy helped her control the fugues, she believed the illness would prevent her from obtaining a license to practice medicine. The results arrived when she was within months of beginning her own surgical practice, turning a period of professional promise into an abrupt threat to the future she had worked toward.

George’s Response

As George explained the findings, Ginger’s composure gave way. She wept quietly, with the anguish of someone confronting not a single diagnosis but the loss of a reassuring, repairable explanation. George took tissues from the bedside box, poured her water, and gave her Valium after she initially resisted. He held her hand and spoke gently to reassure her. His care could not undo the medical conclusion or its consequences, but it answered the moment with practical tenderness rather than clinical detachment.