“And what, exactly, are they? The long-term benefits?” Margaret felt uneasy as Frank questioned the doctor, his queries somehow making her, again, less sure of her decision to move forward.
“You see, by severing the connections in the frontal lobe that cause these overblown emotional responses”—he tapped at the front of his head—“I am able to essentially obliterate these negative and dangerous emotional patterns.”
“But how do you know you won’t obliterate my wife in the process?”
Margaret felt as if she might faint. She had never even contemplated that as a possibility. Could that really happen?
“Excellent question.” Dr. Apter smiled. “Mrs. Baxter will not be the same when the procedure is done. She will be calmer, happier. More patient with the children. Content with the excellent life you have given her, instead of miserably yearning for some mysterious ‘other’ that her current mental state is convincing her should exist. She will be freed of the anxious ruminations that prevent her from performing simple household tasks or enjoying an evening out to dinner. She will finally be unencumbered by the crippling illness that currently has her spending her days tied in knots, wishing for a happiness that sits beyond her grasp. She will be free to finally be the best version of herself.”
Margaret felt a wave of relief wash over her. To not have to try so hard anymore. To no longer feel afraid. To unconditionally love her children again. To willingly surrender herself to her home and her husband. It was all she wanted. Trying to fight against these other voices in her head was exhausting, and Dr. Apter was going to quiet them once and for all. “Frank, you see? I know you’re worried about me, but if I do this . . . we can be like we were before. We can be happy.” She looked at her husband, unable to hide the desperation in her face.
“Mags? Is this really how you’ve been feeling?” Frank gazed back at her, his eyes full of love and compassion, and she turned away, pained. “You know all I want in the world is for you to be happy. And you seem happier. Better. Why, the night you made your mother’s roast . . .” Frank smiled at her and her cheeks turned pink.
“Mr. Baxter, I have explained to your wife that it is quite common for a patient to experience a temporary elation simply upon learning about lobotomy as an option. I can assure you that without the procedure this will be temporary.”
Yes, the doctor was right. She wasn’t really happy; she was struggling. And this would end the struggle. “Frank, I’ve been fighting so hard to be the wife you deserve. A good mother for John and Maisy and William. And I’m losing. I don’t want to lose anymore.”
“Mr. Baxter, the area where I perform the lobotomies is just on the other side of that wall. The procedure itself only takes a few minutes. A brief electroshock for anesthetization—no side effects—and Mrs. Baxter will simply sleep through the whole thing. She will be able to walk out of this office within thirty minutes. She’ll likely have a headache for a few days and possibly some bruising around the eyes. I usually tell my patients this is a wonderful reason to purchase a new pair of sunglasses.” Dr. Apter was so calm, so reassuring. As he spoke, she seemed to forget entirely about the fact that he planned to enter her brain. Her brain. It was unfathomable. But, oh, if it worked . . .
“One other thing I forgot to mention, because Margaret has been a patient of mine for some time now, I will only charge a nominal additional fee for the procedure. So, if cost is a concern, it needn’t be.”
“I think we still need some time to think about it.” Frank looked at Margaret and she smiled at him, reassured. “But if your procedure is really as simple and safe as you say, and it’ll help her get back to herself, well, I suppose I have no choice but to give it serious consideration. After all, all I want is for Maggie to feel good again, to be happy.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The moment Ruth hung up the phone, having very improperly accepted Estelle’s invitation to come visit immediately, she realized she had been to Queens only once, during the World’s Fair back in ’39. But that was with Robert. She had never gone alone in her own car to Queens or any unknown New York neighborhood, for that matter. But her need to see Estelle overshadowed any misgivings. She consulted her atlas, got behind the wheel, and started to drive.