We made an appointment to go visit the doctor the next day. Kelly was nervous... so was I for that matter. Unspoken was the possibility that my wife's brain might have had something permanently changed in her. This is a scary thought. I don't know about you but I think of my brain as "me"... and something involuntarily changing in there... well... it's a little "invasion of the body snatchers" to me. And it raises the interesting philosophical question, "Is this really my wife?"
As that thought spun into my head, I forced it out. I couldn't start thinking like that. I could borrow trouble about things that we barely knew anything about. I looked over and squeezed Kelly's hand. She was nervous and scared. Just like I was.
We drove in awkward silence, only occasionally saying a couple words to each other before retreating back into our own private thoughts. Kelly wasn't fully convinced I was right. She viewed each of the prior incidents as isolated whims of hers. She recognized that they were uncharacteristic outbursts but insisted that the thoughts hadn't been planted there or anything. They felt perfectly natural and rational. It was that very certainty that had me most alarmed, however.
So she agreed to go with me to see the doctor. As we pulled up, I tugged sharply on the silver door handle. My wife kept the car so clean that the reflective surface was like a mirror. As I looked down, I caught a brief glimpse of my wife's skirt covered ass as she climbed out of the car. And, God help me, I briefly imagined how good she'd looked when I'd bent her over and pounded her against the couch that first night. The twitch that my cock felt was... well... disturbing isn't quite the right word. But it's close.
As we came around the front of the car, I wrapped my arm around her. It wasn't intended to be a protective or possessive gesture. At least not consciously. But as soon as I did it, I curled my fingers gently into her shirt's fabric and pulled her close. She looked up at me in confusion then decided to say nothing and simply gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek. The sweet, intimate gesture made me smile. She was still my wife. This was still the same person.
We made our way into the office and the receptionist, a plumb middle aged woman, ushered us into the Doctor's office. "Hello Kelly. Hello Max," she said.
"Thanks for seeing us Dr. Jenkins," Kelly said, "I'm sure it's nothing but I want to make sure Max isn't overly concerned."
The doctor laughed, "Based on what you've told me Kelly, if your husband is sufficiently concerned that, despite the amazing sex, he thinks something might be wrong than I think we should take that seriously... don't you?"
I looked over at Kelly, surprised she'd given those details to the doctor. She simply nodded and said, "I suppose you're right."
"Okay... so I've been running some tests and I have a couple theories. The most likely one is that your mind is still adjusting to the colors and you're occasionally seeing something that reminds you of a previous event. It's a subconscious overlap of memory and emotion."
Kelly nodded along but I spoke up, "That doesn't seem right, Doc. She's seeing swirly colors like she used to... but only on specific objects. And her reactions are so amped up and atypical. Kelly... have you ever felt as mad or as depressed as you did those two times? Like ever?"
"No... I don't know... that's the thing isn't it? They felt natural to me. Like it was completely natural to be angry with you that first time?"
"Really? Angry at what?"
She paused. We'd talked about this. Her anger had seemed natural and normal to her but she couldn't articulate a reason. The best thing she'd been able to come up with was that she was angry I hadn't fucked her well but intellectually she knew that wasn't true. Or that I hadn't taken the amber alert seriously which she also knew wasn't true. She said nothing, conceding the point.
"Okay... well... the other possibility is that the new implants essentially have a sort of buffer overflow error."
"What does that mean?"
"Well... and mind you this is simply a theory... I looked back at the way we constructed the protein circuits. Like any circuit, they're designed to handle certain types of signals. Because we're dealing with light, these aren't digital signals but analog."
I nodded along, following mostly what she was saying. "Theoretically, there are a couple of very, very specific wavelengths of light that might create an issue for the protein circuits... but only if they bonded with a non-optic nerve neuron."
"Which they wouldn't, right? Because they're just finishing the chain along her optic nerve?"
The doctor looked slightly nervous but pressed on, "Well... the thing is, remember when I said everyone with this disease is different with the part of the neurological chain that misfires?"
We both nodded and she continued, "It's possible that it's the last link in the chain that's causing the problem."
"The last link? Meaning... the junction between optic nerve and her brain?"
