Silent Fear, a Medical Mystery by Barbara Ebel Page B

Bill said.
    “Okay, Bill, you’re right. What about Dotty Jackson? Did she have some of the same symptoms?”
    Bill shook his head as he slid further back in his chair. The meeting seemed to be taking a toll on him. “She has flu-like symptoms,” he said, “complained less of a headache although she does have one. And she’s developed a fever, which is getting higher despite an antipyretic. Nothing so far has shown up abnormal on her blood work.”
    “I’ll get to her after Dr. Talbot,” Tim said. “Each of these patients needs infectious disease precautions. Let’s isolate them.”
    Danny rapped his knuckles on the table with a sudden thought. “Either of you have a problem if I call in Dr. Joelle Lewis?”
    Tim moved his cane to the side and got up. He stepped to the right and left, unkinking his cramps. “I’ve never worked with her, but I’ve heard of her. By all means, give her a call.”
    “I think we have ample concern,” Bill added, “that it’s also time to call in the CDC.”
    Danny had made notes. He double checked their plan and who was going to do what. He tensed his lips, searched his colleagues faces. “I’m going to see how busy the OR is with after hour emergencies.”
    Tim paused stretching and looked as quizzical as Bill. “What do you have in mind, Danny?”
    “We can’t wait for Harold’s cerebrospinal fluid to possibly grow something out on a Petri dish in the lab. I need to do a brain biopsy on Harold.”
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    After tracking down the infectious disease doc, Dr. Joelle Lewis, by phone and asking her for her expertise, there wasn’t anything more Danny could do. He put Dr. Jackowitz’s name on the OR list of after hour cases. The timing of his case also depended on other serious trauma cases that could come straight up from the ER during the night. As a backup, Danny asked the schedule coordinator to put him on the a.m. Sunday semi-elective list in case they still hadn’t gotten to Harold.
    Danny hoped to get home, have a bite to eat, and grab some shut-eye. He went out the ER doors where Casey’s ambulance had been gone for hours. The thunder and lightning had stopped, a silent, gentle rain left in its place. The parking lot lights illuminated the drops, like tiny baby pearls falling from the sky. Danny took off his white coat, draped it on his arm, and did a slow run to his car. Inside, he called Mary.
    “I’m stopping at a sandwich shop,” Danny said once Mary picked up. “I know it’s late, but can I get anyone something?”
    “Not for me, but we ate early, so let me ask the girls, they’re right here. We’re watching a movie.”
    Danny heard his girls’ indecision and then Mary got back on. “They’ll each take a six-inch BLT. Can you get a sandwich for Casey as well? He should be home shortly.”
    “Sure. See you soon.”
    Danny arrived home with two foot long turkey combos and a foot long BLT. It was after eleven, Casey’s car engine still warm in the garage. He entered the garage door into the kitchen but noted no greeting from Dakota. Inside, Casey sat on the ottoman in front of Mary with Dakota between his knees, still giving him a rowdy greeting.
    As Danny placed the bags on the coriander counter, he admonished Dakota. “You slacker. Didn’t you hear me come in?” Dakota backed up from Casey and bounded into Danny. At the last second, he swiveled, enabling Danny’s hands to rub his rump. “I don’t want the back end. Come here, where I can see you.” Dakota kept his spot which also enabled him to sniff upward towards the warm sandwiches above him.
    “You missed a good comedy,” Mary said.
    “Hi Dad,” Nancy said.
    “Glad you made it,” Casey said, walking towards him, “especially since you’re delivering food.”
    Nancy and Annabel strode in as well. “Here girls,” Danny said. “I have the foot-long BLT.”
    Nancy’s mouth curled into a frown. “Dad, I wanted a six-inch.”
    “It’s right here,” Danny said, rumpling her