You don't think it's"– and now she looks around the restaurant before leaning...

You don't think it's"– and now she looks around the restaurant before leaning in, whispering–"AIDS?"
"Oh no, nothing like that," I say, though immediately I wish I had paused long enough before answering to scare her. "Just . . . general . . . brain"-I bite the tip off an herbed breadstick and shrug-"injuries.