Silent Epidemic (Book 1 - Carol Freeman Series)

by Jill Province

  “And Terry Sanders…?" she prodded. 

  “Was one of the ones having a hard time," Donovan finished.

  “What were you doing for these people?" Sandra interjected. 

  “Anyone needing additional medical attention was sent to my office," the doctor explained. 

  “And what did you do for them?" she asked, again. 

  “They were given the option of going through ‘monitored withdrawal,’ or going back on their meds." 

  “What is monitored withdrawal?" Jason asked Donovan. 

  “We monitor their blood pressure," the doctor said flatly. 

  “That’s it?" the reporter ventured. 

  “Yes," Donovan, said, standing again.  “Well, I’ve told you everything I know, so if you will please excuse me, it’s very late and I have had a long day." 

  “Certainly," Sandra said.  “And thanks so much for your time."  Donovan nodded, as he opened the front door to their escape.  “Can we contact you if we have any further questions?" Sandra ventured. 

  “Sure," Donovan said flatly and closed the door on their heels.

  Once they were back inside the car, Sandra said, “That was quite a leap from not remembering the guy to the blow by blow he finally gave us,"

  “That was pretty watered down if you ask me," Jason interjected.  

  Sandra put the key in the ignition.  

  “A guy is so angry that he shoots at a bunch of strangers, and then he shoots himself," Jason continued, as Sandra backed out the driveway.  “Sounds to me like he was having one hell of time." 

  “Goes without saying," Sandra added. 

  “I think we should try to find out who the other volunteers were," Jason stated.  “I’m guessing there’s more going on here than what ‘doctor blood pressure’ was telling us.”

   

  Donovan went to use the phone.  He had been ready for sleep until the visit from two reporters, but he was wide-awake now.  He went fishing through his wallet, looking for Jeff’s home number, when the phone rang.  Donovan grabbed it before the ringing could wake Sally.  “Yeah," he said, still looking for the number. 

  “Doc, this is Jeff.  We have a situation." 

  “No shit, we have a situation," Donovan spat into the phone.  “I just had a lovely visit from two reporters." 

  “Really?" Jeff said. 

  “’Really’? Is that all you have to say?" Donovan yelled in a hushed whisper.

  “Look,” Jeff said, trying to calm Donovan down.  “All of this is part of a standard investigation.  They don’t suspect us of anything.  A man shot over some heads, yelled some things at us, and then shot himself.  They have to check out all the details." 

  “I guess that makes sense," Donovan said, calming slightly. 

  “The only thing they want from us at this point, is the patient’s chart.  The police already have a signed release from the family.  I assume that all the charts are up to ‘inspection’ quality.” 

  “Have been ever since the vitamin scare." 

  “Okay then.  We’re all set.  Tomorrow, a courier will come by for the chart.” 

  “Tomorrow’s Saturday," Donovan retorted. 

  “Very good," Jeff said.  “I guess that’s why you get paid the big bucks.  We can have the courier pick the chart up at your office or at the house, which ever you prefer.  It just needs to be early.  They wanted the chart tonight, but we stalled them." 

  “I think I’ll go get the chart now," Donovan offered.  “The less commotion around Sally, the better.” 

  “Fine," Jeff concluded.  “We’ll pick the chart up at the house in the morning.”  Donovan thought about using the release of information as a further stalling tactic.  Technically, they had to present him with the release before any records could be made public, but he also knew that any protest would be futile.

  Donovan hung up the phone and went to put on some cloths.  He could still hear Sally’s words from this afternoon.  Can you promise me that what they ask us to do today won’t come back to bite us in the ass?  He looked at her sleeping peacefully, and thought momentarily about the baby, who must also be sleeping peacefully.  He would have to re-think this whole thing.  He didn’t mind the continued risk for himself, but he couldn’t jeopardize them, too.  He put on his shoes and quietly slipped out the door.  

  * * * * * * * * * * *  * * *

   

  Brian was still awake when the phone rang at 12:30 AM.  He rarely dozed off before three or four in the morning.  “Brian, that was an interesting lead," Jason said excitedly. 

  “What’d you find out?"  

  “Well, for one thing, your doctor friend is a very bad liar."

  “Figures," Brian interjected. 

  “The other thing," Jason continued, “is that there is definitely more going on here than anyone is willing to talk about." 

  “I think the reason is that the people who know what’s going on are too sick to care."  

  “Seems to me a lot of other people are counting on just that."

  “So, what are you going to do now?"

  “Interview you for starters."  

  “You want to do this over the phone?" Brian asked incredulously. 

  “No," Jason stated.  “This story will hold until tomorrow.  Besides, I have one more thing to do tonight.  Can you come down to the office in the morning?" 

  “I’ll do you one better," Brian countered.  “I’ll buy you breakfast.  And I may be able to bring you a little bonus." 

  “Sounds lovely."  The Denny’s down the street from your house?" 

  “Ten AM," Brian confirmed.  “See ya.” 

  Brian looked at his watch: 12:42 AM.  He didn’t think he should call Carol at such a late hour.  She had most likely been up early to go to work that morning. He would call her tomorrow.

   

  Donovan arrived at his office building at 1:15 AM, pulling up to the handicapped space just outside the front of the complex. This was usually reserved for patient parking.  Under the circumstances, he didn’t think anyone would mind. There were no security guards at any of the doors, so he fished his mass of keys out of his glove compartment before leaving his car. 

  Donovan flipped on the lights in the lobby, and decided to take the stairs to his office.  The idea of the elevator in the middle of the night gave him the creeps for some strange reason.  After turning on the lights in his waiting area, he re-locked the office door.  He wasn’t doing anything wrong, just retrieving a file.  So why did he feel so unnerved?  Must be because it was the middle of the night, and he really didn’t want Sally knowing he was here.  What if she woke up while he was gone?  What was he going to tell her? 

  Donovan worked on a respectable lie while he unlocked the file cabinet.  He quickly found Terry Sanders’s file and glanced through it.  The patient had come to him a short time ago with common sedative withdrawal.  He had been put on “vitamins,” with returning symptoms.  When counseled on his options, Mr. Sanders had chosen to remain off sedatives.  Although he had failed to disclose any prior psychiatric problems, there was a note on the chart that suspected some previous depression.  “Damn," the doctor swore under his breath.  He had hoped that Sanders had been one of the many patients that had opted to go back on his meds.  The patient’s chart had some serious holes that, if evaluated by a medical person, would allow for a lot of unanswered questions.  Good thing I decided to get this tonight.

  He hesitated momentarily in front of the remaining Dominex patient charts.  They were all in need of some repair.  The doctor went into the supply room and found an empty box.  I’d rather deal with this now than under the gun later.  There were about one hundred and twenty five charts.  There had been a lot more study dropouts and patient referrals, however not all of them had made it to his office.  Some may have
gone to their own family doctors.  Others probably opted for no doctor intervention at all.  Donovan emptied the two drawers that housed the Dominex patient files, and folded the flaps over to seal the box.  Satisfied with his decision, he carried the box out to the waiting area and returned inside to lock the file cabinet and turn off the lights.

  Down in the lobby, all was empty and quiet.  Donovan carried the box to his car, and went back to lock the front door.  Secure inside his car, he breathed a sigh of relief and backed out of the parking lot.  What am I going to tell Sally? he wondered as he pulled on to Peachtree Street.  The truth, I guess.  He had been fortunate to get in and out without being seen.  He decided to come clean with her and then they would decide what to do together.

   

  Jason and Sandra watched Donovan drive away.  They had been parked down the street from the doctor’s office, in the hope of some midnight activity.  “Isn’t it kind of late to be checking in at the office?" Jason asked innocently. 

  “Not if you have a large box to retrieve."  

  “Wonder what was so important that he had to get it tonight?" Jason countered. “Let’s see," he continued. “What fills a large card board box and comes from a doctor’s office?" 

  “Patients’ charts?" Sandra volunteered. 

  “Ya’ think?"  

  They both looked at each other.  

  “This is big," Jason said.  “I can almost see the Nobel prize hanging on my wall.”   

  “Your wall?  I don’t think so."  

  The two reporters drove away arguing about whose name would go first on the article.

  * * * * * * * * * * * *

   

  Brian did not have to set an alarm clock to make his breakfast meeting.  His sleep cycle lasted only a few hours.  His daily exhaustion had become so familiar to him, he had gotten used it.  It felt like he was viewing his entire life through a dream.  Except the dream was a nightmare.  He attempted to wash some of the sickly “washed out” look from his face.  During the initial withdrawal, he could barely see the pupils of his eyes.  They were tiny dots.  His eyes looked sunken in and his face was a pale white.  Brian had never experienced being this sick and wondered if his face was going to remain this way permanently. 

  He decided it was an appropriate time to call Carol.  The phone rang a long time and Brian was beginning to question his decision.  Carol answered on the fifth ring.  “Did I wake you?" he asked. 

  “That’s a hard question to answer," she said, yawning into the phone.  “There’s such a fine line between sleep and consciousness." 

  “I know what you mean.  Anyway, this is probably worth getting up for." 

  “What’s up?" Carol asked.

  Brian told her about his conversations with Jason Sample and the breakfast interview.  “So, can you be there at ten o’clock?" he concluded.  

  Carol hesitated to obey her knee jerk reaction.  In the days before her recovery, she would have been on the bandwagon in a heartbeat.  Hell, she would have been leading the bandwagon. Today, she was cautious.  It was her rebel with or without a cause personality that had led her down this path to begin with.  

  Brian noted the silence and understood her resistance.  “Carol, I wouldn’t ask you to do this, if I didn’t think it was really important." 

  “Its level of importance is not the issue." 

  “I know," he said.  “I guess I will understand if you need to back out."  

  Carol thought about it another beat.  She had never turned her back on any issue where people had become victims.  She couldn’t do it now. 

  “Okay, I’ll be there," she said finally. 

  “I knew you would."  

  “Yeah, I’m a real walking mystery," Carol sighed.    

  Brian hung up the phone and quietly went into the bedroom.  Pam was still asleep as he changed into some clean jeans.  They hung on him.  He had not been able to eat very much due to the nausea and had lost at least ten pounds.  He had already been slightly underweight.  He was not happy about the weight loss.

  The weight thing was the biggest irony during sedative withdrawal.  Whatever had been your lifetime nemesis became even more extreme during the illness. Brian looked for a big baggy shirt to hide his small frame.  “Where are you going?" Pam asked, sitting up in the bed. 

  “I’m meeting Jason for breakfast," he answered, without looking in her direction. 

  “I hope you are in the process of returning to work," she added.  

  Brian did not respond.  Instead, he grabbed his shoes out of the closet and left the room.  I hope you are in the process of getting a heart, tin man. 

  He was glad he only had to drive a few blocks.  The phobia about driving a car was one of many strange fears he had experienced after stopping the drug.  In the old days, he would have jogged there.  Today, he did not feel that his legs would hold him.  He chose the lesser of the two evils, and backed the car out of the driveway.

   

  When Brian arrived at the restaurant, Jason was already there, accompanied by a woman he did not recognize.  Jason stood when he saw Brian enter, and stepped into the aisle to give him a hug.  “Hey man, good to see you still in one piece." 

  “Being in one piece is about as good as it gets." 

  “You look good, though," Jason added. 

  Brian looked at him and said, “You’re a lousy liar." 

  “Okay," the newsman conceded, “you really do look like shit." 

  “You should see it from my side," Brian said.

  “This is Sandra, my assistant."  Sandra rolled her eyes, and reached out to shake Brian’s hand. 

  “He wishes he had an assistant." 

  “So, where is my surprise?” Jason asked. 

  “She should be here any minute," Brian answered.  

  The waitress came by for drink orders.  Everyone ordered regular coffee, except Brian, who ordered decaf. “The agitation is incredible without the help of stimulants.” 

  “No caffeine?" Sandra remarked, “I’d die." 

  “You get used to it," Brian explained.  “Besides, the alternative is far worse.  It’s like electro shock therapy." 

  “Did someone say shock therapy?" Carol interjected.  

  Brian stood to introduce her. 

  “Jason, Sandra, this is Carol.”  Carol shook both their hands and scooted into the seat.  “Carol is an addiction counselor and a Dominex study victim.  She will be able to give you a lot more information than I could.” 

  “Great," Jason said.  “Thanks for coming." 

  “No problem.  I’m a sucker for lost causes." 

  “She doesn’t have a lot of faith in the system," Brian explained. 

  “Who does?" Sandra agreed.

  The waitress brought two coffee carafes.  One was dark brown; the other was beige.  “This one’s the leaded," the waitress said, pointing to the brown carafe. Carol went for the decaf.  The gesture was not lost on the reporters.

  “Everyone want the breakfast buffet?" Brian asked.  Everyone nodded.  “Four," Brian said to the waitress. 

  “Let’s get our food first," Sandra directed.  “I’m starving."  Everyone went to fill their plates.

  Once the group was settled in, they resumed the discussion.

  “So, when did you first realize there was a problem?" Jason asked between bites of egg. 

  “Three days after I stopped taking the drug," Carol answered.  “But let me clarify that.  I was feeling awful on the third day, but I really didn’t make the connection until day five." 

  “What was significant about day five?" Sandra inquired. 

  “It was no longer a vague illness," Brian interjected. 

  “Yeah," Carol agreed.  “Up to that point we thought we had a virus or the flu.  But by the fifth day the symptoms
were so unique there was no mistaking it for something else." 

  “What were the symptoms like?” Jason asked. 

  “Are," Brian corrected.  “We are weak, exhausted, nauseated, and dizzy."   

  “That sounds a lot like the flu to me," Sandra said. 

  “Our bodies vibrate from the inside. There is a constant buzzing sensation in our arms, legs, and face," Carol continued.  “We have started to experience panic attacks for the first time in our lives." 

  “Oh, God," Sandra said contritely. 

  “We have been having graphic nightmares, unrealistic fears, constant agitation, confused thinking and depression."  

  Jason and Sandra both sat listening to the long list Carol gave them in total amazement. 

  “And you are both experiencing those symptoms right now?" Sandra asked sympathetically. 

  “Well, Brian is in an earlier stage of recovery, so his symptoms of weakness and agitation are more intense than mine."  The two reporters digested the breakfast, and the information.

  “You said Brian is in an earlier stage. You didn’t start the study at the same time?" Sandra asked. 

  “That is a whole other can of worms," Brian said, putting his fork down.  “There were people who had so much trouble going off the drug that Dominex had to make arrangements for us to get medical treatment." 

  “At least that’s what they called it," Carol interjected. 

  “Really," Brian agreed.  “It was such a scam."  

  Both reporters leaned forward in their seats. 

  “Go on," Jason prodded.  

  “Well this doctor hands me a small brown envelope, and tells me its vitamins." 

  “Really?" Sandra said. 

  “Yeah, that was my reaction too," he continued.  “But this guy assures me that they work wonders and even warns me that they are so potent I should not exceed one a day.  Well, he was right.  They were miracle vitamins.  I started feeling much better, until I talked to Carol."

  “I have that effect on people," she said humorlessly.  “Brian told me that the vitamins were working and I got very suspicious." 

  “No doubt,” Sandra said. 

  “So, I had him come in for a drug screen." 

  Jason sat up in his seat.  “What were the results?"  

  “He tested positive for benzodiazepines," Carol stated.  

  The newsman began writing something down. “Okay, how do you spell that word?”