"I see."

"No, you don't. But that's okay."

"Whatta you mean I don't? Where do you get off saying that?"

"Detective Scully, you don't want to be here. I've seen guys in the electric chair look more relaxed. The very thought that your wife is having seizures, crashing the car, and whatever else, is abhorrent to you. It threatens your existence. You don't want to focus on it."

"Then why am I here?"

"Because it's become unbearable. Your wife has changed. She's become reckless and unpredictable. That behavior was previously reserved for you. Now you're experiencing a major role-reversal in your marriage. It's suddenly become your job to contain her mistakes instead of vice versa. You don't like it. It's limiting the way you behave, impinging on your own sense of self."

"You got all that in just thirty-five minutes? Not bad." Trying to back him off, because he'd pretty much just nailed it.

"You know that you both need help. She won't come in and talk to me, so you did. You're looking for a quick fix, but I can't possibly treat your wife through you."

"I see."

"You keep saying that. Pardon my bluntness, but you don't see. You don't want to. At least not yet. You're in denial."

We stared at each other, locked in his beige-on-beige, forty-minute time capsule.

"Will she get better?" I finally asked.

"Recovery from traumatic or acquired brain injury can take years. A patient will sometimes experience mood changes, major shifts in behavior parameters, even temper control problems. Sometimes these changes will only be temporary and the patient will return to normal, other times not. I'd have to have many sessions with your wife to determine what, if any, of these things are present and how permanent they might become. The meds you found in her purse indicate she's having seizures. Maybe that's what caused the traffic accident."