Locked Down With The Army Doc: Locked Down with the Army Doc / The Brooding Surgeon's Baby Bombshell. Scarlet WilsonЧитать онлайн книгу.
She turned to face Jack. “Then we’re on a race against time. We need to contact trace. If there are children involved they may already have been immunized against meningitis W. But because this strain is slightly mutated, I still want to give them antibiotics. I can’t take any chances with this.”
“Meningitis W is one of the most dangerous strains, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “That’s why it was included in the immunization schedule in lots of countries only a few years ago. These kids really should have had this vaccine. But not everyone agrees with vaccination. Not everyone takes their kids for them, even though they can get them for free.” She shook her head and turned to Mamo. “I need supplies. Where can I get oral supplies of antibiotics?”
Jack couldn’t help but be impressed. She was on fire. This was her specialty and it was clear she knew the subject matter well.
Mamo walked over to another phone. “I’ll talk to the hospital pharmacy. It’s emergency circumstances—in more ways than one. Being part of the DPA will give you visiting physician credentials. You’ll be able to get what you need.”
She nodded again in grateful thanks. Jack got that. He was a medic too and part of the army. And, although he was confident in his abilities and credentials, it didn’t matter where you were in the world—most countries had their own conditions and registrations for being a doctor. The US had different regulations for each state, so sometimes it made things difficult.
She nodded and laid her hand on Mamo’s arm as he waited for someone to answer the phone. “Thank you,” she acknowledged. He nodded as they made their way back out of the lab and to the elevators.
She leaned against the wall as the elevator ascended. A few strands of her dark pink-tipped hair had fallen around her face and shoulders, and he could practically see the tension across her shoulders and neck.
He leaned forward and touched the end of one of her strands of hair. “I never asked last night. Why pink?”
She blinked for a second as if her mind was racing with a million different thoughts, then glanced sideways as she realized he was touching her hair. “Why not?” she replied simply.
There was something about the expression on her face that made him suck in his breath. She appeared calm and methodical. He was seeing Amber Berkeley at her best.
He was so used to being in charge. But here? Here, he was just Jack Campbell. This wasn’t a trauma situation. Here, he had to let the person with the most experience lead the case. And that was hard for him. “What can I do?”
He had to ask. He wanted to help. He’d help any colleague who needed it—whether it was his specialty area or not. The army had made him adaptable in more ways than one.
She fixed him with her steady blue eyes and gave him clear instructions. “I need to get histories. I need to find out where these boys have been in the last few days in detail. I need to know every contact. I need names, addresses, dates of birth—contact details if they have them.”
Jack licked his lips and asked the first question that had danced into his brain. “And if they are too sick to tell us?”
She grimaced. “Then we ask their family. Their friends. Whoever admitted them. This is a potentially deadly strain. We can’t wait. There isn’t time.” She shook her head. “I don’t even want to think about what doing this in the middle of a hurricane means.”
He gave a swift nod and reached over to give her arm a squeeze. “I can do detailed histories. I haven’t done any for a while, but I still remember how. Let’s split it. You take one, I’ll take the other and then we can check if there’s any crossover.”
She looked down at his hand on her arm and gave a weary kind of smile. “Thank you for this, Jack. You didn’t have to offer, but I’m glad you did. Usually I’m part of a team. So outside help is appreciated.”
“You okay?”
She nodded. “The meningitis stuff? I can do it in my sleep. The hurricane stuff?” She shook her head. “I don’t have a single clue. I feel completely thrown in at the deep end.”
She gave a smile as the elevator doors slid open again. “Remember your first shift as a resident when it seemed like everyone on the ward was going to die simultaneously?”
He let out a wry laugh. Everyone felt like that their first day on the ward. “Oh, yeah.”
“It feels a bit like that all over again.”
He gave her a smile. “Well, think of me as your backup plan. You lead, I follow. Brief me. What do I need to know?”
She glanced over the notes she had. “Okay, these two kids were both part of a surf club. Zane became sick first, exhibiting some of the normal meningitis signs—high temperature, fever, signs of an early chest infection and, a few hours later, some confusion.”
“So, there are at least a few hours between the disease progression in these kids?”
She gave a slow nod. “They were worried they might have to sedate Zane, but the lumbar-puncture procedure went smoothly and they started him on IV antibiotics straightaway.”
“And the second kid?”
“Aaron came in a few hours after Zane with symptoms of shock. One of the other young guys had gone to see why he hadn’t joined them and called 911 when he found him still in bed. The ER physician connected the cases pretty quickly. Neither of them had been vaccinated against Men W, and both had been bunking down at one of the local student residences.”
Jack let out a slow breath. “Darn it. Close contacts?”
She nodded. “Close contacts. We need names and to find the rest of the kids who were in that residence.”
“What else should I be looking for with close contacts?” He realized he was firing questions at her but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to make sure he covered everything.
“The rules are generally people who’ve slept under the same roof, nursery or childcare contacts, and anyone they’ve shared saliva or food with. Dependent on age, they all need a two-day course of rifampicin.”
Jack pulled a face. “Shared saliva with? You mean anyone they’ve kissed? For two teenage boys at a surf school we might have our work cut out. How far back do we need to go?”
“Seven days from first symptoms.”
“Let’s hope the surf school kept good records, then, and let’s hope the boys know who they kissed.”
The lights around them flickered and they both froze. “Please don’t let us lose power,” said Amber quietly. “This could be a disaster.”
Jack sucked in a breath. He could tell the thought of the hurricane was making her nervous. Truth was, it made him slightly nervous too. But he had to believe that the authorities would have plans in place to take care of things. They couldn’t control the weather. They also couldn’t control time, and it was rapidly slipping away from them. “We have two cases. We can contact trace for these two cases and try and get antibiotics to anyone we think could be affected. Hopefully any younger kids will already be immunized.”
Amber pulled a face. “Usually we would spend a few hours discussing this with the local outbreak center and the DPA. The impending hurricane doesn’t help. What if we can’t get to the people that need antibiotics? We can’t ask people to leave their homes as a hurricane is about to hit. And who knows how long it will last?” She shook her head.
“It’s a disaster,” he said simply.
“Just pray it isn’t an epidemic,” she said swiftly. “Then it really would be a disaster.”
* * *
By the time they reached the infectious disease unit again it was in chaos. Bed mattresses had been piled against the windows. The curtains around the beds had been taken down