Fatal Cure by Robin Cook. Chapter 2, 3, 4

“See you down at the Iron Horse,” Traynor said as he got into his car and started the engine.

3

THURSDAY, MAY 20

“I’ve got to leave to pick up my child from her after-school program,” Angela said to one of her fellow residents, Mark Danforth.

“What are you going to do about all these slides?” Mark asked.

“What can I do?” Angela snapped. “I’ve got to get my daughter.”

“Okay,” Mark said. “Don’t jump on me. I was only asking. I thought maybe I could help.”

“I’m sorry,” Angela said. “I’m just strung out. If you could just see these few I’d be forever in your debt.” She picked five slides from the rack.

“No problem,” Mark said. He added Angela’s to his own stack.

Angela covered her microscope, grabbed her things, and ran out of the hospital. No sooner had she pulled out of the lot than she was bogged down in rush-hour Boston traffic.

When Angela finally pulled up to the school, Nikki was sitting forlornly on the front steps. It was not a pretty area. The school was awash with graffiti and surrounded by a sea of concrete. Except for a group of sixth- and seventh-graders shooting baskets beyond a high chain-link fence, there were no grammar-school-aged children in sight. A group of listless teenagers in ridiculously oversized clothing loitered alongside the building. Directly across the street was the cardboard shanty of a homeless person.

“I’m sorry I was late,” Angela said as Nikki climbed into the car and plugged in her seat belt.

“It’s all right,” Nikki said, “but I was a little scared. There was a big problem in school today. The police were here and everything.”

“What happened?”

“One of the sixth-grade boys had a gun in the playground,” Nikki said calmly. “He shot it and got arrested.”

“Was anybody hurt?”

“Nope,” Nikki said with a shake of her head.

“Why did he have a gun?” Angela asked.

“He’s been selling drugs,” Nikki replied.

“I see,” Angela said, trying to maintain her composure as well as her daughter could. “How did you hear about this? From the other kids?”

“No, I was there,” Nikki said, suppressing a yawn.

Angela’s grip on the steering wheel involuntarily tightened. Public school had been David’s idea. The two of them had gone to considerable effort in choosing the one that Nikki attended. Up until this episode, Angela had been reasonably satisfied. But now she was appalled, partly because Nikki was able to talk about the incident so matter-of-factly. It was frightening to realize that Nikki viewed this as an ordinary event.

“We had a substitute again today,” Nikki said. “And she wouldn’t let me do my postural lung drainage after lunch.”

“I’m sorry, dear,” Angela said. “Do you feel congested?”

“Some,” Nikki said. “I was wheezing a little after being outside, but it went away.”

“We’ll do it as soon as we get home,” Angela said. “And I’ll call the school office again, too. I don’t know what their problem is.”

Angela did know what the problem was: too many kids and not enough staff, and what staff they had was always changing. Every few months Angela had to call to tell them about Nikki’s need for respiratory therapy.

While Nikki waited in the car, Angela double-parked and dashed into the local grocery store for something to make for dinner. When she came out there was a parking ticket under the windshield wiper.

“I told the lady you’d be right out,” Nikki explained, “but she said ‘Tough’ and gave it to us anyway.”

Angela cursed under her breath.

For the next half hour they cruised around their immediate neighborhood looking for a parking space. Just when Angela was about ready to give up they found a spot.

After putting cold groceries in the refrigerator, Angela and Nikki attended to Nikki’s respiratory physiotherapy. Usually they only did it in the morning. But on certain days, usually those with heavy pollution, they had to do it more often.

The routine they had established started with Angela listening with her stethoscope to make sure Nikki didn’t need a bronchodilating drug. Then, by using a large beanbag chair that they’d bought at a garage sale, Nikki would assume nine different positions that utilized gravity to help drain specific areas of her lungs. While Nikki held each position, Angela percussed over the lung area with a cupped hand. Each position took two or three minutes. In twenty minutes they were finished.

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