An hour or so later, after tests were conducted, Alan came back to the examination room to give Gary the "verdict".
"Give it to me straight, Alan. What's wrong with me?"
"Nothing."
Lorraine looked up. "What do you mean by nothing? He has a daughter that he can't remember."
"Maybe it's stress."
"Maybe?"
"Gary, I'm not a psychiatrist. But I've checked all the tests. There is nothing physically wrong with you. So the problem is most likely psychological." Alan walked over to one of the counters in the room and sat on it. "It's in your mind."
"What can you do for me then?"
"Not much. I would suggest that you go see a psychiatrist, though."
"You think I'm nuts."
"Gary, everyone here knows that you have one son and one daughter, except for you. I'm sorry, but the answer to what you want is in yourself. I can't help you there." He put his arm around Gary and led him to the door. "The best advice I can give you, for the immediate future, is to get some rest. You look like you need it anyway."
With that said, Gary and his wife headed back home.
