Rediscovering John

Thanks to everyone who has emailed me about this story. It's a fairly emotional one for me as well. Let me know if you like the continuing saga.

Merci

Mandijerri

Rediscovering John, Part 4: Diagnosing John

They danced in the dark.

Two bodies entwined around each other, swaying in time to music that only played for them, in their ears alone.

And as they danced so they moved and twined one around another. A shirt would slip off here, socks there and then trousers. The removal of clothes was wrapped up with the movement of the bodies. And as the layers were removed, so the kissing, so the stroking, became more sensual and more widespread.

John leaned back with Francois' arms wrapped around his waist as Francois kissed his chest, licked across nipples. And with another turn his hands were running down Francois' back, cupping his backside, tongue tracing the line of the tendon in his neck, teeth biting along the muscles in first one shoulder and then the other.

Theirs had always been a physical relationship, and in their time together it had become more and more sensual. This dance, now at least a twice-weekly occurrence, would come over them without warning. They would move to bedroom and instead of falling onto the bed they would fall into each other. And slowly the dance would begin.

Now they were both naked and John was running his hand along Francois' upright cock, tracing the outline of the organ against the muscles of his belly. And Francois was leaning him back again as his own dance took his tongue down John's side and around the muscles of his groin.

He span John around so they were front to back, and now Francois' hands were running over John's chest, while his mouth played with muscles in his back. Tongue and teeth slowly gyrating down his spine to the small of his back and then a twist as he turned John back to him, tongue now slipping around the muscles of his belly, his chest.

Teeth pulling gently on nipples.

And John pulled Francois into him, stubbled chin running across his shoulders, across his chest and nipples, making him sigh as it always did, and John smiled to hear his lover express the physicality of this foreplay. And then the dance took them across the room and Francois lay John onto the bed in one move, his mouth sliding down his chest as he did so. Mouth now seeking John's sex, hands wrapping around balls as his lips, tongue and teeth settled around John's dick.

This time John sighed and Francois settled next to him, head to toe and now John reached out with hands and tongue, reaching out for Francois' own cock. It slipped into his mouth and he rolled over Francois, pushing his man onto his back. Now he slid his head up and down Francois' shaft while Francois reached out with hands and pulled him in and out of his own mouth. Fingers seeking more intimate places and sliding around his backside.

And John took first one, then the other of Francois' balls into his mouth and massaged them delicately with his tongue, releasing them to slip back over his cock which was already feeding him pre-cum as Francois rose to his crescendo. And Francois had entered him now with fingers and saliva. Massaging his arse as his mouth massaged the head of his dick.

The music, their music, still played in each of their heads and in time with the hidden orchestra they moved again. Now Francois crouched over John. His hips thrusting down into John's mouth while his own mouth slipped up and over John's cock. Head and hips working in two-step time. And his hands found John's backside again and he slipped his fingers inside. Pulling John's cock deeper and deeper into his throat with each thrust of his body.

And John felt the familiar tingling in his chest, in his balls, and at the same time he felt Francois' cock throb as he too came up to the moment of release. They came together, as they always did on nights like this. Francois forcing his cock into John's throat while John pulled Francois' head down onto his own cock. And they fed each other, then Francois fell onto him, and they lay there for a while, still suckling, still stroking.

John's head was at the top of the bed, and in a moment Francois slid up his body, twisting around and pulling him into a deep kiss.

"Je t'aime." He whispered as he kissed John's eyes.

"Toujours et à jamais." John replied, and they lay there in the dark, wrapped around each other, warmed by the heat of their love and soft June evening.

"How do you feel?" Francois asked after a moment, kissing John on the cheek and running his hand along his chest and belly, wrapping it once more around his dick.

"Loved." John smiled in the dark.

"I promised to take care of you." Francois smiled back. "That was the deal, remember?"

"I remember." John replied. "And I would love you for eternity in return."

"And you do."

"And I do."

They kissed again, then as one slipped the duvet around them. John settled against Francois, settled into the body of this man, his husband, his lover. They would sleep now, until the love of the night called them back for an encore.

"Ah!" John called out, the nightmare bringing him to an upright position.

"John!" Francois called, sitting up and wrapping his arms around the man.

"Help me!" John screamed.

"I'm here!" Francois called, pulling John into him.

John was shaking in terror, and he clung to Francois as if his life depended on it.

"John!" A voice from the door, it was Jeanette.

"Help!" John called and lashed out at something unseen.

"Francois!" Jeanette called out and she too wrapped her arms around her frightened son.

"Hold him." Francois said.

Together they held John, rocking him gently.

"We are here." Francois whispered into his ear.

"John, you are safe." His mother said.

John shivered.

"Where am I?" He whispered.

"At home." Francois told him, holding him close and kissing his head.

"I... I don't know this place, Francois!" John said. "Where are we?"

"Home."

"Mum?"

"I am here, love. You are safe. A bad dream."

"I'm scared, mum!" He whispered, and there were tears in his voice.

"Don't worry. You are safe." She soothed.

And in the dark Francois kissed him, his own tears running down his cheek.

"Don't cry." John whispered, kissing Francois cheek.

"I'm scared, John." Francois whispered.

"I'm OK now." John said, and he had stopped shaking.

"Are you sure?" Jeanette asked.

"Tired." John whispered, and he fell against Francois shoulder, asleep before he had even closed his eyes.

"I'll hold him for a moment." Francois said.

"I'll make some coffee." Jeanette whispered and padded out of the room.

Francois came into the kitchen about quarter of an hour later. Jeanette stood and they hugged each other, tears now in both their eyes.

"It's getting worse." Francois sobbed.

"We'll tell the doctor everything tomorrow." Jeanette said. "They will know what to do."

"But I don't want to lose him, Jeanette. What if they take him away, put him in a hospital or... or worse!"

"That won't happen tomorrow." Jeanette said, kissing him on the forehead and slipping the coffee across the counter to him. "Sit, drink."

"Bien." Francois smiled as he pulled the dressing gown around him. "First the doctor."

"Yes." Jeanette said. "Let's do everything one step at a time, alright?"

"Alright. I will come with you when you take him."

"Good, he'll need you there as well."

Francois breathed in deep, tears forming in his eyes again.

"It's too soon after Bill, Jeanette. I am not sure how strong I can be!"

"But you will." Jeanette said. "For John, yes? For him we will be strong. When he is asleep, then we can cry."

"You are right." Francois sighed. "But it is so difficult!"

"At least he only forgot where he was, tonight." Jeanette said.

"Yes. He still knew us."

"So that has to be good." Jeanette said. "Take hope where we can, Francois. That is what we have to do. It's the only way to move forward."

"Oui." He agreed.

"So," The doctor said sitting back in her chair. "I can understand why this is frightening you, John. And why it upsets your partner and mother. Yes? On the surface it appears to be an SPS, a simple partial seizure."

"So I'm not dying?" John asked.

"Far from it!" The doctor laughed. "SPS usually affects one of the lobes in the brain. As you are having memory problems attached to this then I am assuming the seizures are occurring in either your frontal or temporal lobes. Although this would have to be confirmed, of course."

"So it's epilepsy?" Jeanette asked.

"In a sense, yes." The doctor replied. "Many people will have an epileptic seizure in their lives. This does not mean they are epileptic." She added. "John has been under a lot of stress recently, his father has died, he has started a new job..."

"And these can trigger this?" Francois asked.

"They can contribute to it." The doctor said. "So just to put your mind at rest." She added, calling up a screen on the computer. "I will arrange an examination for you at the hospital. Yes?"

"What will they do?" John asked.

" A whole range of tests, John. They'll check your hearing and sight, balance, and memory. I will arrange a blood test for you as well before you go to the hospital. You have private insurance, yes?"

"Yes." Francois said.

"OK, then it will probably be at the Highgate Hospital."

"We know it." Francois replied.

"Will they do any other tests?" Jeanette asked.

"They may decide to do a CT or MRI scan." The doctor replied, "But that will depend on the results of the other tests."

"And the seizures?" John asked.

"I know they are frightening." The doctor said. "But at this stage I don't want to medicate. What I would like you all to do is keep a diary for me. I need to know when and if a seizure occurs, how long it lasts and what the symptoms were, yes?"

"Yes." Francois replied.

"If you start having more than three or four a day, John, call the receptionist here and make an emergency same-day appointment. We can start you on first line drugs then. Hopefully, though, they will begin to peter out and the hospital will give us the all clear by then."

"You make it all sound so normal!" John laughed.

"And it is, John. The brain is a strong organ, but it can get sick just like any other part of the body. It is also very resilient, so it will bounce back. Yes?"

"Yes." John smiled.

"Good. I have emailed the nurse and she will contact you in the next two days for a blood test. The hospital will write to you in the next week. In the meantime keep a diary for me. Yes?"

"Yes, thank you doctor." Francois said standing and shaking her hand.

"Thanks." John smiled as Francois put his arm around his shoulders and led him out of the room.

"Thank you." Jeanette smiled as she followed the boys from the room.

"So we are all feeling happier, no?" Maurice asked.

They were sat in the Britannia Restaurant in Edmonton, above a scrappy pub but the only place, according to Maurice and the owner, to eat authentic Romanian food in London. And as a bona fide Romanian (although he had lived in Britain longer than he had ever lived in Romania), Maurice had brought them all here to celebrate John's impending recovery.

"Much happier." Jeanette smiled.

She was drinking a glass of yellow Tuica, a type of plum brandy. She was on her second and the starters hadn't arrived yet!

"Good." Maurice smiled. "Noroc!" He added downing his brandy.

"Noroc!" Jeanette laughed also finishing hers.

"Not for me!" John laughed as Maurice leant over to fill his glass again. "I need beer!"

"And for me." Francois smiled. "John and I are simple drinkers!" He smiled.

"Then, Madame." Maurice smiled, "It is just you and me. You would like some more?"

"Oh go on then." Jeanette laughed. "How do you say, yes, please in Romanian?"

"Da, va rugam sa." The waiter said as he came over with a tray of starters for them.

"Dava rugamsa." Jeanette smiled. "And thank you?"

"Multumesc." Maurice told her.

"Mulshumesh." Jeanette said to the waiter.

He smiled and left the starters on the table.

"So what do we have?" John asked.

"Here, proper pork scratchings!" Maurice smiled. "We call it sorici. This is slana, a kind of smoked ham, here is bread and zacusca , you spread it on the bread and finally our most famous dish, mamaliga cu brânza si smântâna, fried polenta with salt cheese and sour cream."

"And this is the starter, right?" Francois asked.

"Indeed."

"Good, because I was thinking there isn't enough here!" He laughed. "When you said come out for a snack..."

"You've eaten?" Maurice said, looking sad, but then smiling at them.

"I had a sandwich." Francois admitted.

"Not me." John laughed. "I've seen what your little lunch looks like, Maurice, so I knew what to expect!"

"It is perfect!" Jeanette smiled, helping herself to some of the polenta and cheese.

"So tell me what the doctor said." Maurice added as he spread the vegetable mash on some bread.

"I have something called SPS." John said. "Simple Partial Seizure in the front or temporal lobe of my brain. Wherever that is."

"The temple, I think." Jeanette said through a mouthful of ham.

"Here then." John said knocking his head above his ear.

"So is it epilepsy?" Maurice asked.

"Yes, and no." John said. "I've had a series of epileptic episodes. It's too early to say if it is full blown epilepsy and the doctor is not prescribing any drugs yet. Going to have a blood test and go to hospital for more tests though."

"And he has to keep a diary." Francois said sipping the beer that had just arrived at their table.

"A diary?" Maurice asked.

"To see how often I have a fit, and what the symptoms are." John replied.

"And have you had any today?"

"No." John said. "All normal so far."

"Good."

They eat the food in silence for a while.

"I like this." Jeanette said after a moment.

"What?" John smiled. "The brandy or the polenta?"

"The polenta!" Jeanette said. "Although the brandy goes down rather well."

"Very well indeed." Maurice laughed as he filled his and her glasses again.

"Maurice!" Francois said. "Are you trying to get my mother-in-law drunk?"

"He's not having to try that hard!" John smiled.

"Excuse me!" Jeanette said. "I'm on holiday and relieved you are alright, John. I'm allowed to get a little tipsy, I think."

"A little." John smiled raising his glass of beer to her in a toast.

"What's next?" Francois asked settling back in his chair.

"I thought you were full." Maurice noted.

"I'm a growing boy!" Francois said. "I always find room for food!"

"And that's true!" John laughed.

"So, for our growing friend." Maurice smiled. "Next we have meatball soup, ciorba de perisoare."

"Chorbaday peri swaray." Jeanette repeated.

"Very good." Maurice smiled. "And here it comes."

"Two waiters came over, one cleared the table and another placed a small tureen on the table. A moment later and another waiter brought some bowls and spoons over to them."

The waiter then ladelled the soup into the bowls for them.

"Pofta buna" The waiter said as he left the table.

"Now that is sour!" Francois laughed.

"It's why we drink Tuica and so much sweet white wine." Maurice smiled. "Puts the sugar back!"

"But it's lovely!" Jeanette said. "And the meatballs are beautiful."

"They are good." John said. "Get some wine, Francois!"

"I'm calling him over!" Francois laughed.

It was late, almost one in the morning. Francois and John were wrapped around each other on the bed.

"You smell of Romanian restaurants." John smiled.

"Thanks." Francois replied. "You smell beautiful."

"Good, that was the smell I was aiming for."

"It was a pleasant meal. But gym tomorrow."

"Really?" John asked.

"Really." Francois smiled, running his hand along John's belly. "These little beauties are starting to fade away!"

"Well that's not fair!" John laughed. "I've put a lot of work into them. First time in my life I've had abs!"

"Very sexy." Francois muttered.

His mouth was gently kissing each one and he was running his tongue across them.

"Yours are sexier." John smiled, reaching down and grabbing his dick.

"That's not my abs." Francois smiled.

"It's close, and, ultimately, much more fun!"

"A little sex-crazed tonight?"

"It was all that brandy." John complained. "Makes me randy!"

"That doesn't work in French." Francois complained. "Brandy, ça me fait tout excité."

"Oh, I don't know." John smiled. "It's working for me!"

"I could say 'life is shit' in French and you would get turned on!"

"No I wouldn't!"

"La vie c'est de la merde."

"Oh, OK. You're right." John smiled. "Whatever you say, it's just plain sexy! Carry on."

"I was trying to!" Francois complained. "You keep interrupting me!"

"Sorry. As you were then!"

Francois smiled, then started on his abs again, licking around the inside of his belly button and then slipping down to John's appreciative cock. His hands wrapped around John's balls and he began massaging them as his mouth licked and cajoled the head of John's dick.

"You like?" Francois asked looking up at John.

"Je l'aime."

"Hmm." Francois smiled, slipping up Johns body and putting his head on his chest. "And I love Englishmen speaking French!" He leant forward and pulled John into a kiss.

John wrapped his arms around his neck and they rolled onto their sides, with John's legs wrapped around Francois' waist.

"Correction." John whispered when the kiss finished. "You only love this Englishman speaking French."

"Very, very true." Francois smiled, kissing John on each cheek as he said it. "Toujours et à jamais."

"Toujours et à jamais." John agreed, running his hand along Francois' chest and down to his balls. "Love me." He whispered.

Francois rolled him onto his back and kissed his way back down John's body, settling between his legs. Gently he lifted his balls, kissed each one then ran his tongue up and around John's cock. With his other hand he began stroking John's backside, and in a moment John felt the slick cold of the lube spreading there. Francois' fingers began slipping into and out of him.

All the time his mouth was sliding down John's growing dick, and John now held him by the side of the head, guiding him up and down along his length. They would do this again in about half an hour, they always did. Neither of them was ever going to be content with just one go at each other.

Ever.

John smiled as he felt his balls begin to tingle, his breathing became deeper and Francois began working him harder. Teeth and tongue now raked his dick, while one hand began pulling and cajoling his balls, with the other pushing one, then two and finally three fingers into and out of him.

And then he came, in a rush.

Francois slipped further onto him and John fed him his seed, his juice, his soul.

Even before he had taken his mouth off him, Francois slipped around and pushed into John. His dick filling the space his fingers had only so recently vacated. He worked John slowly, Sliding in and out and with each stroke, John would stroke Francois' thigh or chest. Then his own dick began to fill again and he began to massage this as Francois slowly picked up his speed.

He leaned forward and John pulled him into a kiss, hands running along and around his torso, stroking flesh, tweaking nipples. He bit his chin as Francois settled back and began pumping faster and faster. Then he crouched over John and John began stroking and tweaking again, kissing and biting as Francois wrapped his arms around him and pulled him closer, into him.

"Jean!" He called as he came and pumped one last time deep into John.

They both collapsed back onto the bed with Francois laying over the top of John.

"Thank you." He smiled, kissing John.

"De rien." John smiled, biting his ear and pulling him into another hug and kiss.

"I need you with me, John." Francois whispered.

"I know. This is scaring me as much as you." John sighed. "What if it is epilepsy?"

"We will cope with it." Francois said. "Our love, my love for you, that will never change."

"You make me feel so safe!" John smiled as Francois wriggled around in the bed and slipped the duvet over them both.

"It is my job." Francois laughed.

"You do it well."

"Thank you."

They laid there silently for a while. Lost to their recent love and their memories of each other.

"Do you think mum likes..." John began, then stumbled into silence.

He had forgotten the name.

"Who?" Francois asked pulling him into a hug and stroking his face.

"It's nothing." John smiled.

What was his name? They had spent dinner together tonight? He was John's boss, lived in the flat below....

"The suave Romanian." He smiled hoping Francois wouldn't notice his lapse.

"Maurice?" Francois laughed. "Of course she likes him!"

Maurice, that was it!

"No, do you think she is starting to, you know... fancy him?"

"Maurice?" Francois smiled. "They would be good together. It does not worry you?"

"Dad's been gone for over a year now." John sighed. "She isn't good on her own."

"And she would be good with him?"

"I think so." John smiled, wrapping himself around Francois.

"She would move in downstairs!"

"It would let us return to making love all over the apartment!"

"There is that." Francois smiled. "I miss taking you in the kitchen."

"And the hall, the dining room, living room..." John laughed.

"You forgot the balcony." Francois said, kissing his neck.

"I will never forgot the balcony!" John laughed.

"Nor me. Think we could sneak out there now?"

"Probably not." John whispered. "What say we just start all over again here?"

"Works for me." Francois said as his head slipped under the duvet and John lay back as he began kissing him again, licking and biting his nipples.

Hands roaming around his balls, backside and dick.

"Et moi." John sighed.

"You should not be here, John!" Maurice complained as he came into the office and sat in the chair on the other side of John's desk.

"Maurice." John smiled, looking up from his laptop. "I am going mad upstairs, OK? I haven't had a fit for a day and I feel fine. Besides, you are paying me to do a job for you..."

"And I will pay you whether you sit at this desk or not. Your mother is worried you are putting yourself under too much pressure, too soon."

"I am just catching up on mails." John smiled. "After that I'll take this upstairs and do some work from there."

"Do that." Maurice said. "When Jeanette is worried, I am worried."

"Oh yes? When are you planning on making a move on her?"

"Hah!" Maurice laughed. "I am fifty-two years old, John, I don't make moves anymore!"

"But you like her, yes?"

"Yes." Maurice smiled. "We have grown close this year since your father died. You do not mind?"

"Mum's not good on her own." John smiled. "She moved from home straight into a house with Dad. Since he has... gone, well she spends more time here than she does at home. I know she likes you!"

"She makes me feel like I am twenty again." Maurice sighed. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No." John smiled. "Have you said anything to her?"

"No." Maurice sighed. "What if she says no?"

"And what if she says yes? Come on Maurice, if you never ask you'll never know. You've got to take a chance. I did with Francois and look at us."

"I will take her somewhere nice, for a meal, yes?"

"Yes. She would like that. She also likes to dance."

"Ah, but a London night club would be a little too modern for us, I think."

"Why? Mum and dad met in a club in London."

"They did? There is an eighties revival club in Serbiton. A client took me there when it was being refurbished, we quoted for the job I believe... Anyway, maybe I could take her there?"

"Arrange it and ask her." John smiled.

"I will." Maurice said standing up. "Thank you, John."

He paced around the office, looking at the photographs on the wall before he returned to the chair and looked at John.

"You have had the results back from the blood test?" He asked.

"Yes. All clear." John smiled.

"What were they checking for?"

"Diabetes, low blood sugar and some hormonal markers."

"And everything is fine?"

"That's what they said."

"So next?"

"Next the hospital." John said. "Next Tuesday actually. I'm having an ECG, an EEG as well as a neurological test!"

"I have no idea what any of those are." Maurice laughed. "Anything with an acronym has to be painful!"

"No." John smiled. "An ECG will check my heart rate and the EEG will check my brain activity. That's all."

"And what happens then?"

"I don't know. The doctor said they might want to take a picture of my brain, like an X-ray."

"They can do that?"

"Apparently. The consultant at the hospital will tell me."

"And then we will know what is wrong and how to fix it, yes?"

"That's the plan." John said.

"You are very brave, John." Maurice smiled, leaning across the desk and taking his hand in his. "I am not sure I would be as calm as you with all this going on around me!"

"You have to get on with it." John said. "Life, I mean. Losing dad showed me that. We still have to live, Maurice. Despite all of this."

"True. Is Francois going to the hospital with you?"

"Yeah, he's taken the day off especially."

"Good. Your mother will go too?"

"I can only take one person." John sighed. "She's going to wait on the end of the telephone here."

"That will be difficult for her. Maybe I should sit with her?"

"She would like that."

"Then I will ask her." Maurice smiled. "Maybe I can also ask her out to Serbiton, what do you think?"

"Do it." John smiled.

They were sat in the restaurant of the hospital. The remains of lunch were sprawled across the table in front of them. Empty coffee cups, curry smeared plates and a half eaten bowl of fries.

"Voulez-vous un autre café?" Francois asked, taking one of the fries out of the bowl then screwing up his face. "Cold." He added in English.

"Go on then." John smiled.

He watched as Francois made his way across the seating area. He was such a determined man, everything he did was so clear cut, so certain. John admired that in him. Not that he was a gibbering indecisive wreck himself, but he did not have his lover's ambition.

Francois had come to this country six years ago with a history degree from the Sorbonne in Paris and a need to lose himself in London. From a standing start with no friends and not much money, he soon found himself a job in the British Library. A circle of friends (starting with Maurice who was now his de facto father in all but law), a husband (in the shape of John) and a career that not only saw him as Director of Public Exhibitions for the library, but also a regular on television hosting shows about history.

His accent, his manner, his knowledge, all served to make him one of the best presenters in his genre. His youth and obvious charms, despite him making no secret about his sexuality, also served to make him one of the more popular presenters.

John had met him at the start of his television career and had been with him through every show and panel appearance. He was proud of Francois and prouder still when the man, his man, was recognised in public. Francois was always gracious with the public, always a charmer with the ladies, and always very secretive about his personal life.

Stories about him there were many, but he and Francois knew the truth. And that was all that mattered. Now though, now all of that was threatened.

Francois had just told him that he would give up everything to look after him if it had to happen. They didn't have a diagnosis yet, but the seizures were happening two or three times a day now, mostly at night and mostly involving him forgetting where he was and, once more in the last week, who Francois was.

They had spent this morning going through a whole bank of tests, starting with a sleeping EEG. It had picked up a seizure, one that had woken him and left him cold and scared. He had forgotten coming to the hospital, didn't know where he was. It was only when Francois had come into the room and held him that he had calmed down.

After that his heart rate and blood pressure were monitored, both at rest and during exercise. More blood was taken for testing and he was put through a whole batch of neurological and physiological tests. These had just finished and, being left starving, they had come for lunch. They would be back with the consultant in half an hour.

"There we go." Francois said as he sat down with two steaming cups of coffee.

Surprisingly, for a Frenchman, he liked his coffee Italian and now two frothy cappuccinos lay on the table.

"Thanks." John sighed.

"Hey." Francois smiled, lifting John's head by his chin. "We will find out what this is, John. Then we will beat it."

"You sound so certain." John whispered, stroking Francois' hand. "What if it is epilepsy? What if I have this for the rest of my life?"

"It will be medicated." Francois said. "The fits will be controlled."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I have been reading all about it, John. People live with this and live long and normal lives with it. Often it just goes away as quickly as it appears."

"It just scares me, that's all."

"I know it does. It scares me too. But we will fight it, yes?"

"Yes." John said. "If you are there I can fight anything."

"And don't you forget it."

"It's hospitals." John said. "Ever since dad died, they just scare me. What if I don't come out of this place alive, Francois, what if I end up like him?"

"Bill had cancer, John. You do not have that. OK? It was not the hospital that killed him, remember that."

"I know. But he still died in one."

"I would think that most of us will in the end." Francois smiled. "But you, and I, we have a life left yet, John. A long life."

"You're right." John smiled. "I'm just depressed."

"I'm not surprised." Francois replied. "In your shoes I think I would be as well!"

"You could never be depressed!" John laughed as he sipped his coffee.

"There are moments." He smiled. "Even the great Francois de Frise can wake up in the middle of the night alone and scared!"

"I didn't know that. You should tell me!"

"We make love, I get over myself." Francois smiled.

"That's not actually a bad philosophy." John replied. "Think we could get a quickie in now?"

"Sadly, no." Francois laughed looking at his watch. "Five minutes and we have to back for our appointment with the specialist."

"Oh well. I'll just fantasise about it then." John said as he sipped the coffee.

"Perhaps when we leave..." Francois smiled.

"I knew you wouldn't be able to resist me." John laughed.

"I never could." Francois said. "That's why I love you."

"Thanks." John said as he finished the coffee. "You are the best medicine I could ever have, you know that?"

"Hah!" Francois laughed. "I'm not doing that well though, am I? You are still ill..."

"But I am sane, I'm smiling and I'm feeling strong." John said. "You do that for me."

"Good."

"Welcome back." The doctor said as they came to sit in the pleasant office. He was a tall man, African, he filled the office with his body and his personality.

"How was lunch?" He asked.

"Good." Francois smiled.

"You are French, yes?" The doctor asked.

"Oui." Francois replied.

"Je suis de la Côte d'Ivoire. Le français est ma langue maternelle trop." He smiled. "But for this, we will return to the English, yes?"

"Yes." John smiled.

"So," The doctor said. "Epilepsy is such a difficult condition to diagnose. Each test on its own gives us un peu d'information but only when we look at them all together can we begin to understand what is going on."

He paused and looked through some notes.

"For example, your blood tests show normale. Your blood pressure she is hospital-high, John, but within what I would expect for a man of your age and fitness levels."

He looked up and smiled at John before continuing.

"All the physiological and neurological tests came back normale ainsi, as well, despite us asking you to stay awake all last night so we could do the sleeping-EEG this morning." "And that was when it happened." John said.

"Oui. There was a spike in the region of the temporal lobe in the left hemisphere of your brain, John. The temporal lobes are associated with memory and, from your diary, I can see that loss of memory is one of the main symptom of your seizures. One of the triggers you note, unexpected smells, can also be associated with this part of the brain."

"Yes." John whispered, he reached and took Francois hand.

"So if I take everything we have learned so far into account," The doctor said. "I would have to say she is inconclusive, I am afraid."

"So how do we find out for certain?" Francois asked.

"There are still some tests we can do." The doctor replied. "And these will help us to diagnose le problème. Have you heard of an MRI scan, John?"

"Isn't that the machine that takes 3D images of your head?"

"Yes, something like that. I want a picture of your brain, particularly the left hemisphere, John. An MRI scan will do that."

"And when you have the picture?"

"We can see what is causing le problème. Epilepsy can be brought on by many things. You say you have had no head trauma, but even an accident in your childhood could ultimately lead to seizures. I want to see if there is any scar tissue on your brain. That way we will know."

"But what if there is nothing?" John asked. "What then?"

"Then we begin medication for what we do know." The doctor said. "First line drugs may well put everything back into order, John. But before we go down that route, I want to see what your brain looks like."

"How long until we can do this?" Francois asked.

"Not today, tristement." The doctor said. "There is a waiting list for the MRI scanner here. I will email the department now. I would expect you to have an appointment within the week. Is that alright?"

"Fine." John said.

"Bien. So, a quick checklist, John. Do you have a pacemaker?"

"No."

"Good, any tattoos?"

"No."

"Any piercings?"

"Only my ears." John said.

"You must take them out on the day." The doctor told him. "The MRI scanner emits a strong magnetic field, very strong. Do you have dental braces or bridges?"

"No."

"Any shrapnel in your body?"

"No." John smiled.

"Bien. Do you have any surgical staples?"

"No."

"Excellent. Remember, you can wear no metal on the day, not even in your clothes. So take out your earrings, and remove your watch. The technician will explain this as well when you come for the appointment."

"Thank you." John said. "And if the seizures continue?"

"I would expect them to." The doctor said. "I can medicate now, but they are only happening at night and do not affect you in any other way and pose no threat to you physically. So I see no reason to medicate just yet. If, however, there is any change in the frequency or type of seizure, let your local doctor know immediately, alright?"

"Alright." John agreed. "One last question, if that is OK?"

"I am here to answer all your questions, John. What do you want to know?"

"What if it's not epilepsy, what else can cause this?"

"There are many things, John, many things. It could be as simple as an episode in your life that will disappear as soon as it appeared. The MRI scan will show us exactly what we are dealing with. Until I have that in my hand I do not want to make any rash diagnoses, alright?"

"Alright." John said.

"Then thank you both." The doctor said standing and shaking their hands. "We will find out what is wrong, John. And then we can work on making it better. Do not worry, mon ami."

"Je ne vais pas." John replied in French without thinking. "Merci."

"Merci." Francois added, shaking the doctor's hand and leading John from the room.

"How are you feeling?" He asked John as they walked back down the corridor.

"Truthfully?" John asked.

"Yes."

"I'm terrified, Francois. We still don't know what this is!"

"But we are closer to finding a diagnosis. The doctor did not seem too concerned. He did not even want to medicate yet."

"But what if it's not epilepsy, Francois. That's what scares me!"

"Why, what else could it be?"

"What if..." He stopped and pulled Francois into a hug, tears running down his face. "What if it's cancer or something?"

"No!" Francois said, and there was a strength in his voice that wrapped itself around John. "Il ne sera pas que." He insisted. "It will not be that."

"Take me home, Francois." John whispered. "I really need you to make love to me now."

"Oui, mon amour."