Silent Fear, a Medical Mystery by Barbara Ebel Page A

he went outside and rapped on the ambulance door. Casey opened one side. “Hey, come on in. We’re fixing to leave in a little bit because you all are on diversion. We’re going to another hospital.”
    Towards the front, where the ambulance wasn’t covered by the overhang, the rain made a pinging sound in the cab. Mark gave Danny a wave. “This is quite a carwash,” he said and went back to his paperwork.
    “I don’t think we’ve ever sat and talked in your ambulance before,” Danny said.
    “And I’ve been doing this since you were in training and green as avocados.”
    Danny rolled out a laugh. “I knew I needed to see you. That’s the first time I’ve been able to laugh all day.”
    “Glad to be of service.”
    “You didn’t go near Lucy Talbot then, did you?”
    “No, Mark and I brought in a store owner with angina.”
    “Start taking more precautions around here. We think Harold’s got meningoencephalitis. We can’t get results or be sure about the diagnosis, or source, or transmission yet. I’m making sure I give you two the inside scoop.”
    Casey brought his hand across his chin in contemplation. “You didn’t say meningitis, did you? I’ve never heard of this.”
    “Most people probably haven’t. It’s extremely rare. I’m talking about a double neuro condition.” He held his coffee carefully so it wouldn’t spill. “It’s when there’s simultaneous infection or inflammation of both the brain and the meninges.”
    Casey’s thick fingers entwined as he furrowed his brow.
    “The morbidity and mortality rates are not good,” Danny added.
    Danny slipped closer to the door ready to exit the cab. “I just want to give my future brother-in-law a possible medical alert.”
    “Thanks, Danny. We appreciate it.” Mark looked back and nodded his appreciation as well. “I’ll be home after eleven,” Casey added. “Will Mary and I see you?”
    “I don’t have a clue. Give Mary a hug for me, but give Dakota a biscuit and a quick walk.”
    “Goes without saying,” Casey said as Danny left with his coffee.
     
    Chapter 8
     
    Danny beat Bill Patogue into the lounge after swinging by the lab. Timothy Paltrow, the neurologist, ambled in with his cane, along with Bill when the elevator door opened. Tim was in his seventies, holding on to working like a butterfly to wildflowers, and was bald except for a stray white hair here or there, standing up as if electrically charged.
    “Let’s get as distraction-free as we can,” Danny said. “Sorry to bring you in here, Tim, especially in this nasty weather.”
    “My bones don’t like it much these days,” Tim said. “But anything to keep my mind stimulated. Meeting you two is better than reading a book.”
    Danny turned off the television and they went to a corner table. He felt badly about getting the old doc to come in as he glanced out the windows at the non-relenting rain. Over the next few minutes, they gave Tim a synopsis of recent events and why they consulted him.
    From his pocket, Danny pulled out a lab sheet, a small pad of paper, and a pen to make notes. “I just got some of Harold’s spinal tap results and Lucy Talbot is getting her MRI right now.”
    The three men leaned tightly over the table as Danny evaluated Harold’s lab values. Danny’s heart quickened as he read what he dreaded. He grinned at Bill. “Proteins and white blood cells are increased. Glucose is normal, which goes along with the MRI findings.”
    Tim held out his arthritic hand for the lab sheet. “Substantial evidence for your working diagnosis, doctors. Let’s confirm if a meningoencephalitis is what’s going on with Lucy Talbot, too. Why don’t I do a spinal tap on her as soon as she comes out of the MRI?”
    “Perfect,” Danny said. “And above all, let’s hope one of the CSF samples from Harold’s spinal tap grows out something in the lab that identifies the causative agent.”
    “Danny, I need to get consent and do a tap on James, too,”