Authors: Judith Townsend Rocchiccioli
Finally,
Alex asked in a quavering voice, "Jack, do you have the results of my rape
tests?"
The
Commander looked at her gently and said, "Yes, I do, Alex. The tests are
inconclusive. Whitset was a nonsecretor and ...."
Alex
felt her heart sink
. Now I'll never know
, she thought to herself.
Jack
interrupted her thoughts and said, "However, the other tests were
conclusive. The physician reported no evidence of penetration or any other
physical evidence that would support an actual physical rape."
Alex
felt optimistic for a moment, until Nadine’s sharp voice interrupted her.
"You
still encountered a psychological rape, so you'll have to be prepared to work
through the trauma. The emotional piece is unchanged. You do understand that,
don't you, Alex?"
Alex
nodded and said, "Of course I do. Thank heavens that Josh Martin arrived
when he did. I'll be thankful for that for the rest of my life." In her
heart, Alex knew that she hadn't been raped by Whitset. For some reason, that
gave her comfort and she was ready to move on.
Robert
took her hand and smiled at her. Alex resisted the urge to jerk it away from
him, not quite understanding why she was having such a negative reaction to
Robert. He had been just great, wonderful to her in fact.
What the hell
was wrong with her?
Just
at that moment, Mona appeared at the door, breathless, and said,
"Commander, Commander, the nurse in neurosurgery is on the phone. She has
news for you. The phone in here should ring in just a moment."
Jack
jumped up and grabbed the conference phone. Alex, Robert, and Nadine looked at
him expectantly, hope on each of their faces.
Jack
broke out into a gleeful laugh, saying "I'll be right up." He turned
to his friends, "She's awake, she's awake! She asked for me! I'll see you
yo-yo's later."
Jack
hugged Alex, Nadine, and Robert all at the same time and then literally danced
out of Alex's conference room.
"Think
he'll take the elevator," Alex quipped?
"Nah,"
said Robert. "He'll run up the four flights of stairs! I'd better
arrange for a crash cart by the elevator."
They
all burst out laughing, all aware of Jack's elevator phobia. Life was good
after all.
Later
that evening, Alex and Robert were finishing dinner at Café Dégas, one of
Alex's favorite neighborhood restaurants. The mood had been light and joyful.
Now, as Alex looked around the restaurant, she found herself a little
depressed. Café Dégas had been Mitch's favorite restaurant and they had dined
there often. Her thoughts returned to Mitch and how much she had loved him – o
r,
at least, thought she had.
Robert
leaned forward and asked in his deep, beautiful voice, "Why so pensive,
Alex? We’re having a wonderful time! We have so much to be thankful for."
Alex
looked at him, smiled lightly, and said, "Yes, we do, but I need to tell
you something, Robert."
Robert
felt the walls crashing in. He knew it was his depression returning.
"Yes," he said hesitantly, afraid of what she would say and knowing
he didn't want to hear it.
"I'm
going to Virginia for a few weeks. You know how I go back home for renewal. I
see to see Dundee and ride her through the woods. I need some time away. I
also need to check on Grand and Granddad."
"Yes,
I know that," Robert said, his voice anxious, hoping that Alex would
invite him as she had in February.
Alex
knew what he was thinking, but she also knew she needed time alone. She
continued, "I need some time to myself. So much has happened. I'd like
to spend some time in friendly, familiar surroundings."
"I
understand. I'll be here when you get back. You know that." His voice
was low and gentle, his French accent subtle, refined and cultured.
Alex
was trying to choose her words carefully. She knew Robert loved her and she
didn't want to hurt him any more than she had to.
She
continued, "When I return from Virginia, I think I'm going to consider an
opportunity in San Francisco. They are looking for an attorney to set up a
legal department in a new managed care organization. I have gotten several
letters from them and I .…"
Robert
felt like something was grabbing his heart. He looked at her sadly and said
tenderly, "I understand, Alex. I want you to do what's best for you. I
have always wanted that." His eyes were sad.
"I'm
not planning to leave forever. I'm only going to take a sabbatical. Maybe a
year or so, just to get this legal department up and running. I will come
back to New Orleans. You know my grandfather would just die if I moved
permanently to San Francisco. He's half dead now because I'm living here.
Robert
nodded and smiled, "Yes, I know very well. I am well aware," Robert
said, trying to make light of the situation.
Anyway,
he's convinced it’s past time for California to fall into the ocean. It's
just that … I need time to think things out and recover from this year. So
much has happened .…" Her voice faltered.
"You
don't need to explain, Alex. I know you need time. I'll be here when you get
back. I'll take care of things here -- Monique and Jack and the like. And
I’ll clean this place up while you're gone. I'll be sure Favre is gone when
you return, and I will work hard on getting Montgomery out of here too."
Robert's voice was strong.
"Thank
you, Robert. Thank you for loving me enough to let me go." She looked at
him sadly.
"I
do, Al, and I will." He leaned across the table and gently kissed her. In
his heart, he believed he had lost her. But, he could still hope, right? He
could wait for her forever....and then some.
The End
EPILOGUE
Jack
Françoise sat back in his recliner in his office on Royal Street, his door shut
tightly against the noise of the bull pen, his eyes closed tightly as they
oozed silent tears. He had been motionless for hours, battling emotions he
never knew he had. For the first time in his life, Jack felt hopeless, useless
and drained of everything that was good in life.
He
had returned from CCMC late in the afternoon where Monique, who had been doing
well since she had awakened several days ago, had once again lapsed into a deep
coma. Her neurosurgeon was an asshole and was not hopeful that she would
awaken again. Of course, the jackass doctor had never thought she would wake
up to begin with. Robert encouraged Jack to be hopeful, but of course, Robert
was of no use because he was devastated over Alex's plans to leave CCMC for a
year in San Francisco, pending Don's approval of course. Robert viewed her
exodus as a direct rejection of him and their future. Unfortunately, his
therapist was in a coma and unable to help.
Things really suck around here
,
Jack thought to himself.
To
make matters worse, his nemesis, the Mayor had called the Commander to City
Hall and berated him for not finding the killer of Senator Beau LaMont and DNC
Hayes Hunter. Jack figured the Governor was giving the Mayor grief and since
shit flowered downward, it was just his turn. The Mayor didn't give a damn
about the two kids who had been murdered on the same day. What a surprise!
Jack knew that Dr. Madeline Jeanfreau had connected the political killings with
the murder of the kids, but he hadn't had time to meet with her to examine the
evidence. There was never enough time and never enough energy to get things
done.
Jack
sighed to himself as the tears began to cease. He felt his weariness subside and
despondency decrease. Tomorrow was another day. Hopefully, it would be a
better day. Perhaps, Monique would squeeze his hand, and he could focus once
again on finding St. Germaine.
After
a short nap, Jack took a deep breath, rose from his recliner, swung open his
office door, and roared greetings to his night shift. They rallied around him
in support. The NOPD of the 8th Police District loved and respected their
leader. Jack felt his vigor and energy return. He
would
make it and
so would Monique, Alex, and Robert. He was confidant again. Life was good.
Viral
Intent
by
Judith Townsend Rocchiccioli
Copyright © 2013 by Judith Townsend Rocchiccioli
All Rights Reserved
Planned Release Date December 2013
“Sandy!
Sandy! You have got to come here right away! Something horrible is happening
to the guy in bed 3! I have no idea what's up with him but I think he's going
to die!" Kelsey Saunders voice was shrill with anxiety.
Sandy
Pilsner, nurse manager of the newly named Crescent City Health Sciences Center
looked up from the nurses' station and said, "What's up, Kelsey? I just
saw him 20 minutes ago when I was making rounds."
Kelsey's
face was white with fear. "It's awful. He has blood coming out of his
eyes and his blood pressure is really low. He's also shaking all over. I
don’t know if it is a seizure or his fever. Trouble breathing too. ”
Sandy
Pilsner, rose from her seat and looked into the eyes of the almost hysterical
Kelsey, her new nursing graduate intern from LSU. She said gently, “Kelsey,
it’s OK. I just checked on him a few minutes ago. He seemed fine except for
his fever and the fact that his blood work is really screwed up and he has
scant urine output.”
“I
know, I know I know, but I am telling you that things have changed quickly.
Hurry up! I am sure he is going to die in a few minutes. There is just
something wrong. He is totally going bad.” Kelsey brown eyes were huge and
Sandy could see anxiety and worry reflected in them.
“All
right, let’s go and check him out,” Sandy suggested as she thought of the ideal
teaching moment they would have when suddenly a harsh voice barked CODE BLUE,
CODE BLUE, ED, Bed 3 over the hospital voice system.
Sandy
grimaced. “Well, Kelsey, you called that one right! Let’s see what we can
do,” as two nurses rushed towards the opposite end of the ED, one pulling an
extra crash cart in case it was needed.
The
Code team was in action and two amps of bicarb had already been administered
when Sandy and Kelsey reached Bed 3. The patient's lips were blue from
circumoral cyanosis . His nails looked as though someone had painted them with
a pearly blue nail polish. His eyes, which were open and staring were blood
red from petechiae and broken blood vessels. There was bloody drainage from
the right orbit staining his cheek. Sandy noticed the flat, and raised
maculopapular rash on his chest. She could swear he hadn’t had that rash 30
minutes ago.
The
ED doc in charge, Dr. Fred Patterson, saw Sandy and hollered, “What the hell
does this guy have? He’s bleeding from everywhere and I have no idea what is
wrong with him! Give me a history and for God’s sake, get us some protective
gear in here."
Sandy
stood quietly, transfixed. She had never seen Dr. Patterson anxious or even
tense. She panicked for a moment but didn't know why.
Dr.
Patterson glared at her. "Give me a history. He’s bleeding out, for
God's sake, Sandy, and I don’t know why. This is at the very least malaria or
typhoid or perhaps something worse. Holy Shit, I don’t like this! Get us some
protective gear, NOW.” Sandy’s stress soared exponentially. Fred Patterson was
their calmest ED doc and he was freaked.
She
grabbed the chart from the medication nurse and said, “Fred, not much to tell.
The guy came in several hours ago; he was staying at the Burgundy Hotel in the
Quarter. He’s part of the staff for the Democratic Caucus that starts
tomorrow. His friend who bought him here said he started feeling sick last
night, had some nausea, vomiting and a sore throat. Then this morning his temp
got higher and he couldn’t stop vomiting so they brought him in. We started
some IV fluids and gave him from Tofran. That was several hours ago. He was
OK 30 minutes ago.
“Well,
he sure as hell isn’t OK now! I'm sure he is in liver failure at least and
probably multisystem failure. Any recent blood work? Does he have any friends
or family here? Any idea where he’s been? Do you know if he has been
traveling?” Fred was barking the questions at Sandy nonstop.
Sandy
shrugged her shoulders as she and Fred watched as the Code team continued and
respiratory intubated the patient. There was no cardiac response at all. Flat
line. A nurse rolled the defibrillator closer.
“I’ve
no idea," replied Sandy. "His friend stayed about thirty minutes and
took off. Said he had a bunch of stuff to do. You know the politicians are
here for the next few days, right? They are trying to clean up their act in
the Washington."
“Yeah,
goody, goody and the President is coming over the weekend, right?
Sandy
could detect the sarcasm in Fred’s voice. She really couldn’t blame him for
his jaded and sarcastic nature. Just this year, his twin brother, Ron, also at
ED doc for CCHSC had died working in the ED. No one had recovered from it and
most assuredly, Fred had not. Nevertheless, he was a great ED doc and he knew
his stuff. Besides, almost everyone in America had lost respect for the
politicians in Washington D.C. and Fred wasn't any different.
“Yep,
that’s what the papers say. I think a food service worker from the hotel was
admitted earlier. I’ll need to check.” Sandy's voice was casual. She didn't
want to upset Fred anymore then he already was.
“Find
out where he’s been from his friend that brought him in. Call the hotel. I
think he has some kind of really bad virus. Get the infectious disease people
in here too. I'm bringing in Tim Smith in Tropical Medicine over at Tulane as
well."
Sandy
could hear the tension in Fred's voice and paused for a second to respond but
Fred Patterson glared at her and said, “STAT, Sandy, we need to know what we
are dealing with. If it’s bad, we need to contain it. Be sure we have
gathered all available blood samples for diagnostic testing. Get a tube for
everything.”
Sandy,
an old hat ED nurse who thought she had seen everything working in New Orleans,
was disturbed by Fred’s behavior and the wild look in his eyes. She could feel
herself becoming anxious, something she hardly ever did as an expert
practitioner. She replied calmly “Got it Fred, I’ll take care of it,” she
said, pushing a reluctant Kelsey forward so they could get to work. Sandy
could feel the slow but increasing thud of her heart.
Oh my God
she
thought to herself,
suppose we have an outbreak of Ebola or some unknown
hemorrhagic virus.
“
Sandy
looked at Kelsey who was even whiter than she was before. "Kelsey, have
central supply bring in full gowns, masks and booties for all staff in the ED.
Face shields as well. We need to start isolation on all patients and close the
ED to further traffic. We must close down and transfer out the patients we can
and divert potential admissions to other local EDs. I'll call and let
administration know. This could be bad. We don't know what the guy's
got."
Kelsey
was onboard and quick to respond. “I’ll take care of it, Sandy. I’ll get the
gear and report back to you. I’ll call CCHSC infectious disease docs in here
too if you want.
“Thanks,
Kel. I'll call the infectious disease people. You’re the best,” Sandy patted
her shoulder as she rushed towards her office to call administration and report
a potentially serious biological threat to the health sciences center. She
almost collided with Dr. Robert Bonnet, the interim chief of medicine at
CCHSC.
Robert
smiled brightly at Sandy, “Whoa! What’s up, Sandy! Why are you hurrying so
fast? I heard the CODE BLUE so I came down. What’s going on?
“Come
into my office, Robert. We need to talk for a moment. We have a guy, the Code
actually, which I am sure they will call if they haven’t already, who looks
like he has some type of really weird virus. Fred said typhoid or malaria at
the best and perhaps something else. Maybe even a really bad virus of some
kind. The patient works for the Democratic Party. He was bleeding out, has a
significant trunk rash and high fever. Also, his kidneys and liver have shut
down. Bad rash over his trunk area too."
Robert’s
smile disappeared as he analyzed the info Sandy gave him. “This could be bad.
Get Dave Brodrick, our head of infectious disease here at CCHSC and get him
over here. If it looks like a hemorrhagic fever, we will need to call the CDC
as well. Has anyone else been admitted with similar symptoms?”
‘Yeah,
but he was transferred to Intensive Care where this guy was headed before he
coded. I think the guy in the ICU is South African and I believe he is food
service staff at the Hotel Burgundy . He had a temp of 105.2 as well as
nausea and vomiting. His platelets were whacked and WBCs were way up. Short
of breath too, but we treated him symptomatically. He was just like the guy who
coded, but the South African guy stabilized and was transferred to ICU an hour
or so ago.” Their symptoms were almost identical at admission.
“Find
out how he is and call me. I think we have a serious situation, at the very
least a viral outbreak." Sandy noted the etched lines of concern on
Robert’s handsome face as he left her office and started down the hall.
Damn,
that man is hot....if I were a few years younger.....
Sandy
thought admiring Robert's retreating figure as she picked up her phone. She
had just completed her call to infectious disease when Robert returned, framed
her doorway and asked, “Sandy, when does the political convention start? Do
you know?”
Sandy
shrugged her shoulders and said, “I don’t know, sometime this weekend. Today
is Thursday, right? I think it is Saturday morning but I'm not positive.” She
gave him a reproachful look and teasingly added, "Really, Dr. Bonnet, you
should know. You father is a Senator!"
Robert
cracked a half smile. “Find out,” he said as he stared at her steadily, his
eyes unwavering and holding hers.
After
several seconds, Sandy got the message and asked, "Dr. Bonnet, you don’t
think someone is…..?"
Robert
interrupted her, “I don’t know, Sandy, but we have to think proactively.
There're gonna be a lot of very powerful people in the city this weekend.
We've got to consider it.
“Oh
my God, Robert. We’ve had enough this year, please not this.” Sandy's voice
was shrill with fear.
“Yes,
we have but I have a bad feeling that this could be the worst. Close the ED to
further traffic, have everyone wear full protective garb and for God’s sake, no
one is allowed to leave until we figure out what we are dealing with.
Implement our full biocontainment protocol and only accept patients with
flu-like symptoms into the ED. It's better to be safe than sorry.
Sandy
stared at him, her eyes wide with amazement as she nodded and said, "I've
already closed the ED and we are transferring everyone out we can. I just need
to contact administration."
Robert
smiled and said, "You have. These days I am administration. I'll talk to
Alexandra. We're the administrators in charge. Keep this viral thing under
your hat. It may be nothing but a bad bug but just to be safe, I'm calling
CDC.”
Sandy
watched Robert leave for the second time as a dark, ominous feeling of dread
permeated her body.
Oh my God, what are we in for, she
thought as she
wiped the chill bumps from her arms.