“I’ve read that children seem less affected by this new coronavirus,” Faith said, relieved that Brian had disappeared. “It seems to me that we could be spreading coronavirus quickly with children who don’t even know they are ill. I’m all for sparing children, though.”
“But not as contagious in children as influenza?” Peggy asked.
“That’s what I’ve read,” Ann said. “Everyone seems to want a vaccine for this as soon as we can develop one, and yet only half of adults are vaccinated for Influenza. How do you figure that? Do you think people will get vaccinated if we get a vaccine? What if vaccination only makes the disease milder like influenza vaccine does? Will we only have fifty percent of the population vaccinated?”
Faith asked, “Will it have to be an annual affair?”
“I don’t know,” Haley said. “Don’t forget, this is a coronavirus like every seasonal cold virus. Remember, it’s not an influenza virus.”
“OK,” Peggy said, “today, I’ll work on how to get tests, since, if nothing else, we need to know how to get one, how to collect the specimen, and where to send it. We need to stay ahead of the game where we can. If this turns into a significant epidemic, we have a lot to learn, things are going to change rapidly as we get more information, and, like all science, we will go back and forth about what is truth and what is conjecture.”
After rounds finished, Peggy migrated to the fellows’ closet to find a phone number for the Bernalillo County Health Department Epidemiologist. “Calvin Wickman,” the voice announced.
“My name is Peggy Valdez. I’m the attending for the obstetric service at UNM Medical Center. I need to know how we test a patient for COVID.”
“I have a limited number of test kits, and I have to send the specimen to the CDC in Atlanta to run the test,” Calvin said. There was a pause. “Doesn’t your UNM Medical Center Lab do that testing?”
“I didn’t call them. I don’t want to start a panic,” Peggy said.
“Well, I suppose I could come tomorrow to do the test.”
“You don’t have capability today? The sooner we find out one way or another is better for us to contain it if she is positive.”
“Well, I’m pretty busy today,” Calvin said.
“Can I come get the kit and then bring you the specimen?”
“I would rather not do it that way.”
“So, how do I get her tested today?”
“Well, maybe I could come a little later. You realize this would be the first case in New Mexico if she’s positive.”
“I do, but does that make a difference?” Peggy was getting testy. “We need to take care of this patient, we need to protect the rest of the patients in this hospital, and we need to protect us.”
“If you insist.”
“How many tests have we done in this state? Is it possible that we have cases we are unaware of because testing has not yet been extensive enough for us to know about them?”
“I have only done two, and both were negative.”
“When will you be able to arrive?”
“I’ll be there in an hour.”
The epidemiologist refused a handshake from Peggy when they met in the lobby of the Medical Center more hours later than seemed reasonable. Peggy and Calvin trudged to the back of Labor and Delivery, a section containing three rooms, the ICU, and a recovery room, separated by doors which allowed for isolated. Peggy introduced herself to the patient. All in Spanish, used for confidentiality and not for linguistic necessity, they discussed the test, the tester, and the unlikeliness of positive.
“I’ve not been out of the country,” she said. “In fact, I’ve not even been out of Albuquerque since Thanksgiving. No one around me has traveled anywhere, except my aunt did go on a cruise over Christmas.”
“Where did she go?”
“The Caribbean,” she giggled. “She’s a Mexican from Yucatan and she goes on an eastern Mexico cruise! Go figure.”
“To each her own,” Peggy answered. “Anyway, we need to keep this hushed until we get a negative test.”
“No problem,” she said. Peggy thought she was unusually calm about it. “Is coronavirus a problem for my baby?”
“Not that we know of. Not like Zika.”
Her face showed her relief. “Good.”
“You act as if you have had this discussion before.”
“Yes. The intensive care doctor talked about it, but I don’t think we came to a conclusion. It sounded like he didn’t know how to arrange the test.”
“OK. Well, we’re ready to get this over with.”
Calvin, in keeping with his verbally declared attitude, thrust the test swab deep into her nose. She pulled away and exclaimed, “Easy, please.”
“I need to get up high in your nose for the test to work properly,” he insisted. When he was finally satisfied, “There.”
“That was ugly,” she said.
Peggy felt bad for her. “Sorry. I’ll get you the results as soon as we have them.”
“Just make sure the test is negative,” she said.
Pessimistic Calvin said “Unfortunately, it could be several days before we know.”
Chapter 18
“It’s morning again,” Haley said. “Let’s get started.”
A list of patients and their problems went by. Brian, analyzing floor tiles, was mute.
Haley said, “The patient we tested for COVID was negative.”
“You tested the patient?” Brian asked. “On whose authority?”
“Peggy arranged for the test and got it done,” Haley said. “She had to get it from the Bernalillo County Health Department, and it has taken several days to get the result. The patient has already gone home. You would have known if you had not left before rounds were over.”
“I can’t believe you all do things like this,” Brian said.
“I’m glad it was negative,” Ann said. “We would have exposed a lot of people to that patient.”
“How come I didn’t know this?” Brian asked.
“You weren’t the attending of the day,” Haley said, “and you left before rounds were over.”
“Excuse me,” he said. “Please don’t talk to me that way.” There was dead silence. The group started to adjourn, but as soon as Brian disappeared, Faith said, “Ann, can we talk about something?”
“Yes,” she said. “What’s on your mind?”
“Anything. We didn’t have teaching rounds yet this morning.”
“OK,” Ann said. “The conference room in five minutes?”
The discussion was lively, in depth, and satisfying, including the use of masks and handwashing with COVID, all still controversial. After the conclusion, Josh left the conference room for his next task. Brian appeared from nowhere. “I want to talk to you.”
“OK,” Josh said.
“Are you trying to steal my wife?”
“Um, trying? Um, your wife?”
“Yes. Why are you trying to steal my wife?”
“Um, well, she is not your wife anymore. And I love her.”
“What do you mean?”
“You signed your divorce papers, remember? The one my sister prepared for her and gave to you. I think they have been filed, too.”
“So, you actively stole my wife? You even made the divorce happen? What kind of lowlife does that?”
“No. I didn’t make it happen. Faith made it happen. And you went along with it. Signing the papers means you agree.”
“But you facilitated it. You gave her an easy way out. You tricked me into something I didn’t want or mean to do.”