cpatricia.unnaturalexposure-第31部分

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　'I　should　have　it　by　now。'
　'Whatever　it　is。　The　last　case　of　smallpox　was　in　October　I977；　in　Somalia；　Kay。　Since　then　it　has　been　eradicated　from　the　face　of　the　earth。'
　'I　know　what　I　saw　on　the　electron　microscope。　It　could　have　been　transmitted　through　unnatural　exposure。'
　'Deliberately；　you're　saying。'
　'I　don't　know。'　I　was　having　a　hard　time　keeping　my　eyes　open。　'But　don't　you　find　it　odd　that　the　first　person　possibly　infected　was　also　murdered？'
　'I　find　all　of　this　odd。'　He　got　up。　'But　beyond　offering　biologically　safe　containment　for　the　body　and　you；　there　isn't　much　we　can　do。'
　'Of　course　there　is。　There　isn't　anything　you　can't　do。'　I　did　not　want　to　hear　of　his　jurisdictional　conflicts。
　'At　the　moment；　this　is　a　public　health　concern；　not　a　military　concern。　You　know　we　can't　just　yank　this　right　out　from　under　CDC。　At　the　worst；　what　we've　got　is　an　outbreak　of　some　sort。　And　that's　what　they　do　best。'
　'Tangier　Island　should　be　quarantined。'
　'We'll　talk　about　that　after　the　autopsy。'
　'Which　I　plan　to　do；'　I　added。
　'See　how　you　feel；'　he　said　as　a　nurse　appeared　at　the　door。
　He　conferred　briefly　with　her　on　his　way　out；　then　she　was　walking　in；　dressed　in　another　blue　suit。　Young　and　annoyingly　cheerful；　she　was　explaining　that　she　worked　out；　of　Walter　Reed　Hospital　but　helped　here　when　they　had　patients　in　special　containment；　which；　fortunately；　wasn't　often。
　'Last　time　was　when　those　two　lab　workers　got　exposed　to　partially　thawed　field　mice　blood　contaminated　with　Hantavirus；'　she　said。　'Those　hemorrhagic　diseases　are　nasty。　I　guess　they　stayed　here　about　fifteen　days。　Dr　Fujitsubo　says　you　want　a　phone。'　She　laid　a　flimsy　robe　on　the　bed。　'I'll　have　to　get　that　for　you　later。　Here's　some　Advil　and　water。'　She　set　them　on　the　bedside　table。　'Are　you　hungry？'
　'Cheese　and　crackers；　something　like　that；　would　be　nice。'　My　stomach　was　so　raw　I　was　almost　sick。
　'How　are　you　feeling　besides　the　headache？'
　'Fine；　thanks。'
　'Well；　let's　hope　that　doesn't　change。　Why　don't　you　go　on　in　the　bathroom；　empty　your　bladder；　clean　up　and　get　under　the　covers。　There's　the　TV。'　She　pointed；　speaking　simply　as　if　I　were　in　second　grade。
　'What　about　all　my　things？'
　'They'll　sterilize　them；　don't　you　worry。'　She　smiled　at　me。
　I　could　not　get　warm；　and　took　another　shower。　Nothing　would　wash　away　this　wretched　day；　and　I　continued　to　see　a　sunken　mouth　gaping　at　me；　eyes　half　open　and　blind；　an　arm　hanging　stiffly　off　a　foul　deathbed。　When　I　emerged　from　the　bathroom；　a　plate　of　cheese　and　crackers　had　been　left　for　me；　and　the　TV　was　on。　But　there　was　no　phone。
　'Oh　hell；'　I　muttered　as　I　got　under　the　covers　again。
　The　next　morning；　my　breakfast　arrived　by　pass　box；　and　I　set　the　tray　on　my　lap　as　I　watched　the　'Today'　show；　which　I　ordinarily　never　got　to　do。　Martha　Stewart　was　whipping　up　something　with　meringue　while　I　picked　at　a　soft…boiled　egg　that　wasn't　quite　warm。　I　could　not　eat；　and　did　not　know　if　my　back　ached　because　I　was　tired　or　from　some　other　reason　I　would　not　contemplate。
　'How　are　we　doing？'　The　nurse　appeared；　breathing　HEPA…filtered　air。
　'Don't　you　get　hot　in　that　thing？'　I　pointed　my　fork。
　'I　guess　I　would　if　I　stayed　in　it　for　long　periods　of　time。'　She　was　carrying　a　digital　thermometer。　'All　right。　This　will　just　take　a　minute。'
　She　inserted　it　into　my　mouth　while　I　stared　up　at　the　TV。　Now　a　doctor　was　being　interviewed　about　this　year's　flu　shot；　and　I　shut　my　eyes　until　a　beep　said　my　time　was　up。
　'Ninety…seven　point　nine。　Your　temperature's　actually　a　little　low。　Ninety…eight　point　six　is　normal。'
　She　wrapped　a　BP　cuff　around　my　upper　arm。
　'And　your　blood　pressure。'　She　vigorously　squeezed　the　bulb；　pumping　air。　'One　hundred　and　eight　over　seventy。　I　believe　you're　almost　dead。'
　'Thanks；'　I　mumbled。　'I　need　a　phone。　No　one　knows　where　I　am。'
　'What　you　need　is　to　get　lots　of　rest。'　Now　she　had　out　the　stethoscope；　which　she　pushed　down　the　front　of　my　scrubs。　'Deep　breaths。'　It　was　cold　everywhere　she　moved　it；　her　face　serious　as　she　listened。　'Again。'　Then　she　moved　it　to　my　back　as　we　continued　the　routine。
　'Could　you　please　have　Colonel　Fujitsubo　stop　by。'
　'I'll　certainly　leave　him　a　message。　Now　you　cover　up。'　She　pulled　the　blanket　up　to　my　chin。　'Let　me　get　you　some　more　water。　How's　your　headache？'
　'Fine；'　I　lied。　'You　really　must　ask　him　to　stop　by。'
　'I'm　sure　he　will　when　he　can。　I　know　he's　very　busy。'
　Her　patronizing　manner　was　beginning　to　really　get　to　me。　'Excuse　me；'　I　said　in　a　demanding　tone。　'I　have　repeatedly　requested　a　phone；　and　I'm　beginning　to　feel　like　I'm　in　prison。'
　'You　know　what　they　call　this　place；'　she　sang。　'And　usually；　patients　don't　get　。　。　。'
　'I　don't　care　what　they　usually　get。'　I　stared　hard　at　her　as　her　demeanor　changed。
　'You　just　calm　right　down。'　Eyes　glinted　behind　clear　plastic；　her　voice　raised。
　'Isn't　she　an　awful　patient？　Doctors　always　are；'　Colonel　Fujitsubo　said　as　he　strode　into　the　room。
　The　nurse　looked　at　him；　stunned。　Then　her　resentful　eyes　fixed　on　me　as　if　she　did　not　believe　it　could　possibly　be　true。
　'One　phone　ing　up；'　he　went　on　as　he　carried　in　a　fresh　orange　suit；　which　he　laid　on　the　foot　of　the　bed。　'Beth；　I　guess　you've　been　introduced　to　Dr　Scarpetta；　chief　medical　examiner　of　Virginia　and　consulting　forensic　pathologist　for　the　FBI？'　To　me；　he　added；　'Put　this　on。　I'll　be　back　for　you　in　two　minutes。'
　The　nurse　frowned　as　she　picked　up　my　tray。　She　cleared　her　throat；　embarrassed。
　'You　didn't　do　a　very　good　job　on　your　eggs；'　she　said。
　She　set　the　tray　in　the　pass　box。　I　was　pulling　on　the　suit。
　'Typically；　once　you're　in　here；　they　don't　let　you　out。'　She　shut　the　drawer。
　'This　isn't　typical。'　I　tied　down　the　hood　and　turned　on　my　air。　'The　case　this　morning　is　mine。'
　I　could　tell　she　was　one　of　those　nurses　who　resented　women　doctors；　because　she　preferred　to　be　told　what　to　do　by　men。　Or　maybe　she　had　wanted　to　be　a　doctor　and　was　told　that　girls　grow　up　to　be　nurses　and　marry　doctors。　I　could　only　guess。　But　I　remembered　when　I　was　in　medical　school　at　Johns　Hopkins；　and　one　day　the　head　nurse　grabbed　my　arm　in　the　hospital。　I'd　never　forget　her　hate　when　she　snarled　that　her　son　hadn't　gotten　in　because　I　had　taken　his　slot。
　Fujitsubo　was　walking　back　into　the　room；　smiling　at　me　as　he　handed　me　a　telephone　and　plugged　it　into　a　jack。
　'You　got　time　for　one。'　He　held　up　his　index　finger。　'Then　we　got　to　roll。'
　I　called　Marino。
　
　Bio　Level　4　containment　was　in　back　of　a　normal　lab；　but　the　difference　between　the　two　areas　was　serious。　BL…4　meant　scientists　doing　open　war　with　Ebola；　Hantavirus　and　unknown　diseases　for　which　there　was　no　cure。　Air　was　single…pass　and　negative　pressure　to　prevent　highly　infectious　microorganisms　from　flowing　into　any　other　part　of　the　building。　It　was　checked　by　HEPA　filters　before　it　entered　our　bodies　or　the　atmosphere；　and　everything　was　scalded　by　steam　in　autoclaves。
　Though　autopsies　were　infrequent；　when　they　were　performed　it　was　in　an　air…locked　space　nicknamed　'the　Sub；'　behind　two　massive　stainless　steel　doors　with　submarine　seals。　To　enter；　we　had　to　go　in　another　way；　through　a　maze　of　change　rooms　and　showers；　with　only　colored　lights　to　indicate　which　gender　was　in　what。　Men　were　green　so　I　put　my　light　on　red　and　took　everything　off。　I　put　on　fresh　sneakers　and　scrubs。
　Steel　doors　automatically　opened　and　closed　as　I　passed　through　another　air…lock；　into　the　inner　change；　or　hot　side　room　where　the　heavy　gauge　blue　vinyl　suits　with　built…in　feet　and　pointed　hoods　hung　from　hooks　on　a　wall。　Sitting　on　a　bench；　I　pulled　one　on；　zipping　it　up　and　securing　flaps　with　what　looked　like　a　diagonal　Tupperware　seal。　I　worked　my　feet　into　rubber　boots；　then　layers　of　heavy　gloves；　with　outer　ones　taped　to　cuffs。　I　was　already　beginning　to　feel　hot；　doors　shutting　behind　me　as　other　ones　of　even　thicker　steel　sucked　open　to　let　me　into　the　most　claustrophobic　autopsy　room　I　had　ever　seen。
　I　grabbed　a　yellow　line　and　plugged　it　into　the　quick…release　coupling　at　my　hip；　and　rushing　air　reminded　me　of　a　deflating　wading　pool。　Fujitsubo　and　another　doctor　were　labeling　tubes　and　hosing　off　the　body。　In　her　nakedness；　her　disease　was　even　more　appalling。　For　the　most　part；　we　worked　in　silence　for　we　had　not　bothered　with　munication　equipment；　and　the　only　way　to　speak　was　to　crimp　our　air　lines　long　enough　to　hear　what　someone　else　was　saying。
　We　did　this　as　we　cut　and　weighed；　and　I　recorded　the　pertinent　information　on　a　protocol。　She　suffered　the　typical　degenerative　changes　of　fatty　streaks　and　fatty　plaques　of　the　aorta。　Her　heart　was　dilated；　her　congested　lungs　consistent　with　early　pneumonia。　She　had　ulcers　in　her　mouth　and　lesions　in　her　gastrointestinal　tract。　But　it　was　her　brain　that　told　the　most　tragic　story　of　her　death。　She　had　cortical　atrophy；　widening　of　the　cerebral　sulci　and　loss　of　the　parenchyma；　the　telltale　hints　of　Alzheimer's。
　I　could　only　imagine　her　confusion　when　she　had　gotten　sick。　She　may　not　have　remembered　where　she　was　or　even　who　she　was；　and　in　her　dementia　may　have　believed　some　nightmarish　crea