Error in Diagnosis by Mason Lucas M. D. Page B

doll that sat on his desk in Columbus. After an awkward few seconds, he had the sudden urge to feel his checks to make sure the flesh hadn’t completely melted from his face.
So much for the warm greeting and heartfelt expression of gratitude for agreeing to serve as a guest professor
, he thought to himself. He chanced a look in Marc’s direction.
    â€œDid I miss something here?” he inquired, scratching the back of his head, unable to remember the last time somebody had taken such an instant disliking to him.
    â€œI’m not sure. Do you frequently have this effect on women?”
    â€œFrom time to time, but it usually takes a little longer. Is she always like that?”
    Marc couldn’t contain a short laugh. “Actually, she’s one of the most easygoing, pleasant people I’ve ever worked with.”
    â€œAll evidence to the contrary,” Jack said with a huff.
    â€œYou probably just caught her at a bad moment. Things have been pretty tense around here the past couple of days. I’m sure she’ll be in a better mood the next time you meet.”
    â€œWell, you’ve certainly honed your diplomatic skills,” Jack responded as if Marc were somebody trying to sellhim enough life insurance for three people. Jack was still wondering what he’d done to deserve such an ungracious welcome when one of the interns rushed up.
    Between clipped breaths, she said, “Marc, Dr. Shaw wants you stat. Tess Ryan’s crashing.”

13

    Tess’s room was generous in size but not designed to accommodate twelve crane-necked medical students and residents, all struggling to see what was going on.
    Jack followed Marc as he cut a path through the group. When he reached the head of Tess’s bed, his gaze instantly fixed on her face. Her eyes were hollow, glazed and frozen open. Her skin was the color of a clamshell, and at the corners of her mouth, filmy puddles of saliva lightly bubbled.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” Marc asked John Fuller, the ICU physician on duty.
    â€œAbout half an hour ago, she developed sudden bursts of non-purposeful movement and arching of her back. Her pulse went crazy but it’s slowing down now.” He then gestured toward her upper body. “At about the sametime, a facial rash appeared.” Jack took a moment to study the brightly speckled crimson rash on Tess’s cheeks.
    â€œDoes she have a fever?” Madison asked.
    â€œNo, which surprises me a little because this disease is starting to look more and more like a virus every hour.”
    â€œDo any of the other patients have similar findings?” she inquired.
    â€œNot yet,” he answered, unfastening the top button of his white coat. “But Tess was one of our first patients, and since they’ve all had identical symptoms to this point, I suspect the others will follow suit soon enough.”
    â€œHas she had a recurrence of dancing eye syndrome?” Jack asked.
    Fuller gazed over at him. A curious look crossed his face.
    â€œI’m sorry,” Marc said. “This is Dr. Jack Wyatt. He’s chief of neurology at Ohio State. Because of his special expertise in elusive diagnoses, he’s serving as a guest professor and consultant on the GNS cases.”
    Fuller took a couple of steps forward and shook Jack’s hand. “Welcome. I think we’ve got her dancing eye syndrome under control, but she’s becoming less responsive with each passing hour. I’ve ordered another MRI but I’m not sending her up to radiology until I’m sure she’s stable.”
    â€œHas Dr. Sinclair been informed?” Madison inquired.
    â€œI spoke with him a little while ago. He’s in a lengthy budget meeting, but he agreed with ordering an MRI. He also wanted to repeat an EEG to see if there’s beenany change in her brain wave pattern. He said he’d be down to see her as soon as the meeting was over.” From the tone of