Frank cleared his throat, his gravelly voice dropping an octave as he read the clinical summary out loud.

“Documented episodes of severe neurological disorientation, acute motor weakness and temporary cognitive impairment.”

“That clinic has never examined me,” I said.

Frank laid the paper on his pad and looked across at me with deep concern.

“Raymond, there’s a physician’s official state license stamp at the bottom of the page.”

“I stood in that restaurant parking lot for five minutes,” I said.

“That doesn’t give some doctor I’ve never met the right to write a formal evaluation.”