WATCHING CORONA: From Our Dimension to Yours

by Holly Fox Vellekoop

  The stretcher with Grace on it was pulled out with the legs & wheels positioned underneath and side rails up. The attendants pushed it toward the Emergency Room doors.

  “It’s too late. My baby’s coming,” Grace said. “Please, get a doctor. Oh my Gosh. She’s here. Help her. I don’t want anything to happen to my baby.” A whiff of Madonna Lilies momentarily distracted her.

  “No, it can’t be,” the EMT said. He pulled the sheet loose from the side, looked under and was surprised. He yelled for the driver to go get a doctor and began wiping the face and clearing the nasal passages of baby girl Corona Bond.

  The newborn opened her shimmering blue eyes, pulled the corners of her mouth up and smiled faintly.

  The display was gone as swiftly as it came and the attendant wasn’t sure he’d really witnessed it.

  Naked baby Corona whimpered gently when the EMT placed her against her mother’s body for warmth and comfort.

  “When will you people learn that when the mother says the baby is coming that the baby is coming?” Janet scolded, raising her voice with each word. “How many babies have you given birth to?” She scowled at the male EMT. “My gosh. The mother said the baby was coming. What more do you need? A neon sign?” She continued mumbling his way.

  “I’m telling you, Janet, she’d barely started to dilate. She told us herself when we picked her up that she’d just started having contractions.” He huffed about and defended himself to anyone who’d listen.

  Janet frowned at the EMT. She took Grace’s vital signs and cleansed her body. Cool, damp cloths were placed on the new mother’s forehead. An IV line was accomplished and pain medications given. Nursing students arrived to help with changing the bedding.

  Off to the side, Doctor Lynn was reading Grace’s chart and writing orders. He kept his head down, determined not to get involved in the spat between the nurse and the EMT.

  “It’s not the EMT’s fault,” Grace whispered to the nurse. “He did the best he could. The baby just came, that’s all.” She looked up. “How’s my baby?”

  “She’s fine,” Janet said. “And beautiful. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a lovelier newborn.” She smiled at Grace, marveling at her patient’s generosity of spirit. Janet turned and glared at the EMT again. “Men,” she grumped to no one in particular.

  “Eight pounds, one and a half ounces,” Dr. Lynn called out. “And she’s a real beauty. Congratulations, young lady. You have a perfect daughter.”

  “Can I see her now?” Grace asked. “Is she okay? Is everything alright with her?”

  “Like the nurse told you, your baby’s fine, Grace. You can hold her as soon as she’s ready,” Dr. Lynn said. “The nurses are doing their newborn care.” He touched her trembling hand for reassurance.

  “I can hardly explain what happened,” Grace said. “Right when the baby was being born, I saw a bright light and beings with me. And I felt loved and…”

  Dr. Lynn intercepted her. “Hallucinations, Grace. People have them sometimes in difficult situations. Especially during childbirth or when they’re given medications. Now try to get some rest.” He sighed with exasperation at patients’ tales.

  Baby Corona was placed under lights and a soft cotton cap was nestled onto her perfect round head over wisps of blonde fuzz.

  Delicate grunts and whimpers began to flow from her little pink mouth. Her blue eyes opened and closed and darted about the room. Warm, soft blankets swaddled Corona while her temperature was taken by a student nurse.

  “Thirty-seven Celsius,” the student said.

  “Perfect,” Dr. Lynn replied. “She’s right on track. Yep. She’s perfect alright.”

  The student beamed. She administered a preventative eye ointment to protect the newborn’s eyes. The baby blinked several times with the goo transferring all over her tiny pale lashes.

  Nurse Janet gave Corona an injection to prevent the baby bleeding during the days the infant’s body would be unable to produce her own vitamin K. When the matching identification bands arrived, Janet placed them on the mother and baby. All attending health care personnel witnessed their correct placement.

  “Will you be nursing your baby?” Janet asked Grace. She placed the swaddled infant next to the mother’s body.

  “Yes, I will,” Grace said, snuggling her daughter. Despite her own discomfort, Grace positioned herself to look adoringly into Corona’s eyes. Mother and daughter stared at each other, blue eyes to baby blues. Grace gathered the child close and said, “Hello, sweet Corona. You are so beautiful and I love you. I don’t know how you got here, but welcome to our family. We love you already.”

  Corona gurgled and kept her gaze upon her mother. Tiny bubbles formed on her lips. She seemed to be studying Grace’s facial features. Her little nose twitched and she sniffed the air in recognition of a familiar scent. She closed her eyes and dozed off.

  “I’ll leave you two alone for a few minutes while I go check on your room,” Janet said. “We’re almost full, but some patients will be discharged, so we’ll have a bed for you soon.” She smiled at Grace, touched baby Corona’s stocking cap gently, and pulled the curtain shut behind her. Janet went to make some inquiries.

  “Who’s the new mother everyone’s talking about? The one who went into labor and delivered in minutes?” Dana, the receptionist asked.

  “A first-timer. Grace Bond,” Janet said, not wanting to get into personal patient information. “Excuse me, I need to go check and make sure a room is being readied for her.” She went to a phone and punched in some information. Room numbers and times were written on a clipboard.

  “Grace Bond,” Dana said sarcastically to one of the student nurses. “I know who she is. She has a flower business. Lives with her aunt and uncle at the edge of town. She’s one of those unwed mothers who doesn’t know how she got pregnant.” The receptionist laughed and made an ‘I don’t believe it’ face.

  “I don’t know her,” the student said, mindful of her recent ethics class. “But I do know I feel uncomfortable talking about her.” She walked away leaving the receptionist with her mouth wide open.

  “Students,” Dana complained to a nearby attendant. “That one’ll never make it in the nursing field.” She gave the student a dirty look.

  The attendant and Dana shared what they knew about the new mom and the circumstances surrounding the newborn’s conception and birth. It was a conversation full of gossip and derisive comments.

  While they were having their discussion, unbeknownst to them, they had unseen company. An orange eyeband peeked out from a crack in the ER supply room door. Inside the darkened room, a small being listened intently to their nasty talk. Venomous energy emanated from the creature over to Dana and the attendant, causing them to ratchet up the smear campaign, maligning their victims. For cooperating with his need to spread hate and harm, he left them with their own reward before he passed over to his dimension.

  Within seconds, Dana and the attendant became nauseous and had to leave work.

  The day after Grace was admitted to her hospital room, a social worker stopped by to do an evaluation. She knocked on the door, introduced herself as Chris, and asked Grace if it was okay to come in and talk with her.

  “How’s the new mommy?” Chris asked. She smiled at Corona, her heart soft with a special place for this young mother and her newborn.

  “Sore, but good,” Grace said. “We have a little time to talk. I’m expecting my aunt and uncle to stop by soon. They’ve fallen in love with Corona.” She pushed the over-bed table away and turned off the television. She tried to get into an agreeable position. With her discomfort, she only succeeded in a continuous shuffling about of the pillows and bedcovers.

  Chris got out of her chair, removed the pillows from their resting places, and placed one under the small of Grace’s back and the other behind her neck.

  When the social worker was close, Grace detected a familiar floral scent, she didn’t recognize at first. It was sweet, yet disturbing - s
omething with a memory attached to it.

  “Thank you,” Grace said. She sniffed the air and thought she recognized the fragrance. “What is the name of the perfume you’re wearing? You smell just like the Madonna Lily.”

  “I don’t know. Just something from my dresser,” Chris said with a smile. “Not to change the topic, but I have some questions to ask about how you’re going to care for Corona.” She pulled out a sheaf of papers.

  “Is everything okay?” Grace asked. She grimaced. Her eyes met Chris’s for reassurance. There was a faint glow about the social worker’s pupils. Grace squinted to see clearer.

  “Something wrong?” Chris asked.

  “No.” She didn’t want to hurt Chris’s feelings by asking about it.

  “You’re a first-time mother and we want to make sure, when you take the baby home, you have everything you need to be a successful mom and ensure the child’s health and well-being.” She made notations on a multi-page form.

  “Where will you be staying when you’re discharged from the hospital?” Chris asked. “Do you have a place to go and do you have someone to help you until you’re feeling stronger?”

  “I live with my aunt and uncle,” Grace said. “The baby and I’ll stay there until I’m ready to find something more suitable. They’re wonderful people and they’ll help me all they can. And, though I’m sleepy, I’m feeling better already. Corona and I’ll be fine.”

  “Corona is a lovely name,” Chris said. “Was she named after a family member?”

  “No. The name means crown, or a ring of colored light. I chose it because I know she’ll be a very special child. I can’t explain it, I just know it.” She adjusted the pillow behind her head.

  Chris seemed to take the mystical explanation in stride. “She certainly looks like a special baby. Have you noticed anything unusual about her?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe she’s already advanced for a newborn. Something like that.”

  “She’s so new, I haven’t really noticed anything like that. Why do you ask?” Grace looked puzzled.

  “No reason. Just asking. Let’s get back to these forms. Will you be needing some financial assistance to help pay your bills until you’re ready to go back to work?” She prepared to hear a tale of financial woe.

  “No,” Grace said. “I’ve access to a trust fund from my parents, so I’ve enough money to take care of everything. And I already have my own garden business, which I’ll work at once I’m able to get back to it. After Corona’s older, I’ll be going to college so I can get a good job and look after my little girl.” She smiled at the thought of her precious daughter.

  “Will your family be helping you while you’re raising Corona? They adopted you, and I thought maybe they’d want to have a part in your baby’s upbringing, too. Would you like me to talk with them? I’d be glad to do it.”

  “I’m sure they’ll want to help Corona and me,” Grace said. “Right from the start when they found out I was pregnant, they said they’d be there for us. They’ve already been here to visit us after her birth. See the beautiful flowers they brought.” Grace gestured toward a vase on the nightstand, filled with blooms from her own garden.

  “They smell delicious,” Chris said.

  Grace looked at Chris and wondered what she meant by that.

  “I could see they loved her right away,” Grace said. “We’re the closest connection they have to Uncle Hale’s sister Linda, my real mother. We’re family and that means a lot to them. So for now, I’ll stay with Corona at their home and work my garden business. They want me to continue doing that.”

  A knock on the door interrupted the social worker’s interview.

  “Corona’s getting hungry, and I thought we’d bring her in for a meal,” the nurse said. She handed the baby to its mother, checked both identification bracelets and the name on the foot of the bed. She helped position the child’s head and mouth so she could nurse.

  Chris watched the young mom smile and coo to the newborn as she fed her baby. An obvious bond between the mother and child was forming.

  When Corona finished her feeding, Grace placed the infant against her shoulder and rubbed her back. Corona burped softly. Grace wiped her little mouth and held the baby close so she could gaze into her face. She sang and spoke sweetly to her daughter. She touched Corona’s cheek and fingers and then unwrapped the blanket swaddling her, inspecting her body to be sure she was still alright.

  Corona relaxed in her mother’s loving embrace. Having nursed until she was full, she contentedly fell asleep.

  Sensing the mother’s fatigue, Chris pulled a business card from her purse and placed it on the over-bed table. “Call me if you need anything at all, Grace. I’ll do what I can to help.” She touched the young woman’s arm, near an open lesion which she glanced at.

  Grace winced at the touch. Her eyelids were drooping and she mumbled. “Can you please call for the nurse? I don’t feel well. I’m so tired.” Her eyes glazed over and she held her baby out for the social worker to take. She rolled over on her side.

  “Sure,” Chris said. She snuggled Corona close.

  Grace felt the room changing shape from oblong to square and back again. She was surprised to see beings watching her, their arms outstretched. Moments later, Grace realized her misty self was viewing the room from a corner of the ceiling. She recognized her own motionless body on the bed below. Unimportant. Deathly. When a beckoning bright light broke through a fold in space, the spirit Grace obliged and floated into its embrace.

  Chris waited before pushing the button for someone to come tend to the motionless young mother.

  Grace’s body lay unmoving under the covers; her hair tumbled down around her shoulders.

  “Grace,” Chris said. “Grace.”

  Baby Corona stared up at the ceiling where her mother’s spirit had departed and started to scream, reaching a tiny arm outwards. Her face became reddened.

  The social worker readjusted Corona’s position to comfort her, but the infant continued to cry.

  Chris stepped to the other side of the bed to get a better look at Grace’s face and wasn’t surprised at what she saw. The tips of the deceased young woman’s nose and earlobes were already turning cyanotic. Chris checked for a carotid pulse and, finding none, exited the room to the nurse’s station for help.

  Baby Corona whimpered.

  Chapter Eight

  At the Emergency Room

  “We have another one,” Janine said. She read the notes, “Filmy, worm-like tongue infestation with thready filaments leading into the nostrils, down the throat, and into the bronchial tubes.” She studied the emergency room doctor for his response. “We can’t pretend this isn’t happening, Jim. This is the third case now in a week. I’ve been an ER nurse for thirty-five years and I’ve never seen or read anything like this. Someone’s going to have to call the Center for Disease Control in Atlanta.”

  “I’ll get on it as soon as my break is over,” Dr. Hinson said. He took a sip of his cola then threw the empty can into the recycling bin. He started to say something, got up, and sat down again.

  “Come on. Give it up, Jim,” Janine said. “You don’t want to mess with us nurses do you? We want to know what this is.”

  “I’m not supposed to talk about it,” Jim said. “But I’ll say this. The CDC in Atlanta was made aware of this outbreak as soon as we got the second case. That was months ago.”

  “What?” Janine said. “You mean there’ve been more cases than the ones I saw this week? Where? When? And exactly when were you going to let the rest of us know about this?”

  “Dr. Evans from internal medicine has been following this ever since we saw our first case, a small boy named Tim. His mother noticed vine-like threads coming out of his nostrils. And the boy was constantly rubbing his nose,” The doctor raised his eyebrows when Janine rubbed her own nose.

  “Power of suggestion,” the nurse said, rubbing her nose some more.r />
  “The mother hustled Tim to his pediatrician who sent him up to the Ear, Nose and Throat Department here at the hospital. They shipped him over to me when they couldn’t make any sense of it. It’s unlike anything I’ve seen before. When they scoped Tim’s throat they saw more of these things in his trachea, ending in a cluster where the right and left bronchial tubes branch out. Anyway, before you ask again, we don’t know what it is, where it came from, or how to stop it.” The doctor fidgeted and opened another soda can.

  “What’s been used to try to get rid of it?” Janine asked.

  “All the typical respiratory drugs and I mean all of them. We’ve even tried a few home remedies.”

  “What’s his prognosis?” Janine asked. “Is this going to kill him?”

  “We don’t know, but we don’t think so. We don’t know the agent, the vector, or much else about it but we’re closely watching all those infected. We’ve taken as complete a history from the young man and his mother as we can. No one else in his family has these symptoms. We have many questions, but few answers,” Jim said.

  “What’re we going to do?” Janine said. “I mean, how’re we going to treat these people? They can’t live their lives like that.”

  “Right now, the CDC has 24 cases in four states: California, New Mexico, Texas and Florida. And they’re keeping this hush-hush until we’ve enough data to inform the public. It’s not like it’s pandemic. The whole country isn’t involved. And, we haven’t heard anything like it in any other country.”

  “Do the patients have anything in common? Anything that ties them together to give clues to how they acquired it?” Janine asked. “Are they wealthy? Poor? City? Country?

  “It’s funny, Janine. The only thing they share is that all 24 are young adults and are in Honor’s Classes at their school. I don’t even know if any of it means anything, but that’s all we know. Anyway, we want to get some fresh eyes on this.”

  “So that’s what that new ENT doc is doing here.” Janine said. “What do you want me to do?”