Dubchek had said about complete barrier nursing and about no lab tests until he'd arrived with a special facility. She also mentioned that they had better get together to talk about systematically quarantining all contacts. Dr. Navarre agreed, shocked to hear that Dubchek thought they might be dealing with viral hemorrhagic fever.
Following Dubchek's advice, Marissa got goggles from pathology. She'd never thought about catching an illness through her eyes, but she was aware that their surface was a mucous membrane and was obviously as available to viral assault as her nasal mucosa. When she was fully attired in hood, goggles, mask, gown, gloves and booties, she went to Dr. Richter's cubicle to begin her sampling.
Before she started, she examined him for a skin rash. His arms were clear, but he did have a curious red area about the size of a quarter on his right thigh. Lifting up his hospital gown, Marissa noted a fine, but definite, maculopapular eruption covering most of his trunk. She was impressed that Dubchek had anticipated it.
She drew the blood first, then filled the urine container from the catheter bag. After each was sealed, she washed its exterior with sodium hypochlorite, then put it in a second bag. After the exterior of the second bag was washed in the disinfectant, she allowed it to be removed from the room.
Disposing of the hood, mask, gown, gloves and booties, and then donning new ones, Marissa went on to the next patient, the medical secretary, whose name was Helen Townsend. Marissa repeated the same procedures she'd done on Dr. Richter, including looking for skin eruptions. Helen also had a faint rash on her trunk, but no red circle on her thigh or elsewhere. She seemed less ill than Richter, but none of the patients appeared well enough to question Marissa much as she went about her sampling. Only Alan Moyers could muster the strength to offer some objections. At first he refused to allow Marissa to draw blood unless she told him what his diagnosis was. He was terrified. When Marissa told him the truth, that she did not know
what he had and that that was why she needed the samples, he finally gave in.
As for the monkey, Marissa didn't even attempt to get a blood sample. The animal keeper was out for the day, and she had no intention of trying to handle the animal alone. The monkey looked healthy enough, but was not friendly. He threw feces at Marissa through the mesh of his cage.
Once Marissa completed the packing, making certain that all the screw caps were tightly in place so that carbon dioxide from the dry ice could not penetrate the samples, she personally rode out to the airport and sent the boxes on their way to Atlanta. Luckily she got them on a convenient nonstop.
Back at the Richter Clinic, Marissa made a detour to the small clinic library. There were a few standard texts there that included sections on viral diseases. She quickly scanned the entries for Lassa Fever, Marburg and Ebola virus. Then she understood Dubchek's excited reaction on the telephone. These were the most deadly viruses known to man.
Arriving back on the fifth floor, Marissa found that all eight patients had been isolated in a separate wing. She also found that the clinic outpatient records she'd ordered had arrived. After putting in a call for Dr. Navarre, Marissa sat down and began to study the charts.
The first belonged to Harold Stevens, the real estate broker. She started from the back and immediately discovered that the last outpatient entry was a visit to Dr. Richter: Harold Stevens had chronic open-angle glaucoma and saw Dr. Richter on a regular basis. His last checkup had been on January 15, four days before he was admitted to the hospital.
With a sense of growing certainty Marissa looked at the last entry on each chart. There it was. Each patient had seen Dr. Richter on either the fifteenth or the sixteenth of January. All except Helen Townsend, the secretary from medical records, and Alan, the lab tech.
Following Dubchek's advice, Marissa got goggles from pathology. She'd never thought about catching an illness through her eyes, but she was aware that their surface was a mucous membrane and was obviously as available to viral assault as her nasal mucosa. When she was fully attired in hood, goggles, mask, gown, gloves and booties, she went to Dr. Richter's cubicle to begin her sampling.
Before she started, she examined him for a skin rash. His arms were clear, but he did have a curious red area about the size of a quarter on his right thigh. Lifting up his hospital gown, Marissa noted a fine, but definite, maculopapular eruption covering most of his trunk. She was impressed that Dubchek had anticipated it.
She drew the blood first, then filled the urine container from the catheter bag. After each was sealed, she washed its exterior with sodium hypochlorite, then put it in a second bag. After the exterior of the second bag was washed in the disinfectant, she allowed it to be removed from the room.
Disposing of the hood, mask, gown, gloves and booties, and then donning new ones, Marissa went on to the next patient, the medical secretary, whose name was Helen Townsend. Marissa repeated the same procedures she'd done on Dr. Richter, including looking for skin eruptions. Helen also had a faint rash on her trunk, but no red circle on her thigh or elsewhere. She seemed less ill than Richter, but none of the patients appeared well enough to question Marissa much as she went about her sampling. Only Alan Moyers could muster the strength to offer some objections. At first he refused to allow Marissa to draw blood unless she told him what his diagnosis was. He was terrified. When Marissa told him the truth, that she did not know
what he had and that that was why she needed the samples, he finally gave in.
As for the monkey, Marissa didn't even attempt to get a blood sample. The animal keeper was out for the day, and she had no intention of trying to handle the animal alone. The monkey looked healthy enough, but was not friendly. He threw feces at Marissa through the mesh of his cage.
Once Marissa completed the packing, making certain that all the screw caps were tightly in place so that carbon dioxide from the dry ice could not penetrate the samples, she personally rode out to the airport and sent the boxes on their way to Atlanta. Luckily she got them on a convenient nonstop.
Back at the Richter Clinic, Marissa made a detour to the small clinic library. There were a few standard texts there that included sections on viral diseases. She quickly scanned the entries for Lassa Fever, Marburg and Ebola virus. Then she understood Dubchek's excited reaction on the telephone. These were the most deadly viruses known to man.
Arriving back on the fifth floor, Marissa found that all eight patients had been isolated in a separate wing. She also found that the clinic outpatient records she'd ordered had arrived. After putting in a call for Dr. Navarre, Marissa sat down and began to study the charts.
The first belonged to Harold Stevens, the real estate broker. She started from the back and immediately discovered that the last outpatient entry was a visit to Dr. Richter: Harold Stevens had chronic open-angle glaucoma and saw Dr. Richter on a regular basis. His last checkup had been on January 15, four days before he was admitted to the hospital.
With a sense of growing certainty Marissa looked at the last entry on each chart. There it was. Each patient had seen Dr. Richter on either the fifteenth or the sixteenth of January. All except Helen Townsend, the secretary from medical records, and Alan, the lab tech.
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