The Tear Stopping Lab Page 16     She stands up. “Of course I am. I’m afraid that maybe this is all just a symptom. Maybe I really can’t feel. Sometimes I’m convinced that I can’t. I watch the news about starving children in Africa, and I don’t care about them. They are not in my life or my living room. I can’t possibly feel their pain within my skin. It hurts me more when I break my fingernail. But that doesn’t really hurt either.”   Veronica looks Doctor Kcops in the eyes. She senses a fresh enthusiasm within him. He fixes a picture frame on his desk and then studies her with a piercing look. Is he flirting with her? It can’t be. Than why does he seem so excited? She develops a theory in her mind. He wants to make her his new poster child, go with her on talk shows, become the expert doctor to analyze her rare disease. Maybe he’s even thinking up medical papers he could publish in scientific journals. More prizes, perhaps, to enhance his trophy collection. “The Veronica Phenomenon.” That’s a great title. It sort of rhymes. Maybe he’ll run some tests on her, find some new chemicals to sell along with his tear stopping solution. Make more millions, write more self help books, open a flagship lab in every major city, every suburban shopping mall. God, how she hates the suburbs, Veronica thinks.   “Never mind. I’m leaving,” she says.   The Doctor rocks back in his chair. “Are you kidding me? You must have waited years to come see me. You’re not just going to leave, not before I give you my advice.”   “I don’t care anymore. Can’t you see? I don’t even care about my problem.”   She stands up, lifts one leg at a time, and gently removes her silly, elegant high-heel shoes, one at a time. She holds them in her hand, and walks out through reception, feeling the cold floor on her feet through her thin pantyhose. She thinks of the bills she should pay, the birthday of a friend, and how she hasn’t yet decided what gift to buy her. She reminds herself to buy a thank you gift for her friendly Chinese neighbor.