Neuromed Невропатолог Винница Better -

Halyna stared. Leonid stared at his own hand.

"Open your eyes," she said softly. "You missed by two centimeters."

"Mr. Kovalchuk," she said, her voice calm as still water. "Your wife says your right hand has started to tremble. And you get lost walking to the pharmacy." neuromed невропатолог винница

His wife, Halyna, had finally had enough. "You are not fading away in this chair," she announced, holding up his worn coat. "We are going to Neuromed."

He looked out the window. The autumn rain had finally stopped. A pale, hopeful sun was breaking over the rooftops of Vinnytsia. He picked up his phone and dialed the clinic. Halyna stared

She didn't write a prescription immediately. Instead, she pulled up an MRI scan on her monitor—a ghostly image of Leonid’s brain. She pointed a stylus at a small, shadowy area near the basal ganglia.

The clinic was a sleek capsule of light and silence on Soborna Street. It smelled of ozone and chamomile, a stark contrast to the dusty, Soviet-era polyclinic Leonid had dreaded. Halyna had already filled out the forms. She wasn't asking anymore. "You missed by two centimeters

"Tell Dr. Sokolova," he said, his voice thick. "Tell her the roads are open."