“I have bad news, I’m afraid. All this points to diphtheria for you too, just starting differently than the others.”
He stared at her, then shook his head. “I-I thought I was beyond the danger point.”
She wagged her head. “’Fraid not.” Was she getting calloused or just detached? She refused to acknowledge that this patient sitting on the examining table was her brother. He was a patient who had to be treated for a disease.
“But I’m not even old or young. I thought those were the primary victims. Astrid, this can’t be.”
“The positive side is that you are healthy, you do not live in squalor, and you’ve not been cooped up with folks getting sicker and sicker around you to the point of dying. Many victims, most actually, live through this and become immune. Now, we pray not only for healing, but for a light case, and we are starting treatment at the very first sign. Now, please, just do what we tell you and—”
“Will my being with Elizabeth make her any worse?”
“No, but perhaps we should not tell her right away. She feels so guilty already that she asked you to help the night the train arrived.”
“The night we should have sent them on their way.” He shook his head. “Charlie Becker was so much smarter than we were. He saved Grafton, and we let the demon into Blessing.”
“As Reverend Solberg says, the past is past. You can’t change it, so don’t waste your time dwelling there.”
“Ja, well right now . . . What about Inga and Roald? They’ve been with me.”
“We’ll have to watch them carefully. They did not have contact with the ill here like you did. That spot on your arm—you might have had a bit of a scratch or some such for the bacteria to invade.”
“What will you do?”
“Scrub it with carbolic acid, apply poultices, honey, like treating a boil or some other infection. Make sure you get lots of sleep, all the things we are doing for the others here.”
“I really didn’t think it would get me.”
“As soon as we treat it, you can go back to Elizabeth. Make sure she gets fluids, food, and all we can do for her.”
“Let’s get on with it.”
“I’ll send in Sandra. Just wait here.”
“Astrid, can you call Devlin and ask him to come by? We have to get the paper out.”
“He should be here anytime.” She left the examining room, gave instructions, and returned to her office, closing the door behind her. How would she tell her mother this news? And Andrew?
Later that morning, when the train arrived, Daniel and the new intern pushed the handcarts with supplies over to the hospital, accompanied by three student nurses. Astrid met them at the door.
“Welcome. You have no idea how much we appreciate your coming. Thank you, Daniel.” She smiled at her husband, wishing she could go home with him and sleep for a week or at least a day in her own bed. His smile in return said he felt so too.
“I am Dr. Astrid Bjorklund.” She beckoned them in. “And I know you must be Dr. Johnson.” He smiled and shook her hand. As she nodded to the others, each of them said her name.
“Rose Kendricks.”
“Ethel Brand.”
“Alice Williams.”
“Now, since we are under quarantine, once you are here, you will not be allowed to leave. We take turns sleeping in the other ward. I’m sorry to say we have to share beds, unless you choose to sleep on a pallet on the floor.” She watched their faces, trying to gauge their responses. “I hope they prepared you for the siege we are under.”
While Reverend Solberg and Dr. Johnson wheeled the boxes into the supply room, she showed the nurses where to put their suitcases.
“Dr. Astrid!”
“Excuse me. You will find aprons in the supply room on the shelf.” Wiping the perspiration from her forehead, she headed down the ward to where Vera was holding a convulsing child. “Suction his throat and bring him into the steam room.” She placed her stethoscope on the boy’s chest. “Heart rate up. Come on, son, hold on a while longer. We thought you were improving.” He lay limp in Vera’s arms.
“He’s not breathing.” Vera carried the child into the steam room, and together they held him over the steaming kettle. “There, he is now.” Astrid tented a towel over their heads. Hot as it was in the hospital, this room made them drip immediately. But it helped, if nothing else, to help the sick relax as the airways cleared even the smallest amounts.
Astrid heard Miriam taking over introducing the newcomers to the rest of the staff and the way of the hospital. “We also have a tent full of folks from the circus train that we are taking care of.”
“The train that brought diphtheria to your town? Correct?” the resident asked.
“Yes. They briefed you in Chicago?”
“Yes, but none of us have worked with diphtheria.”
“I know you must be tired from your trip, but people here are exhausted too. Our head nurse is sleeping now. We all do whatever needs to be done. Most of our patients need close to full-time care. Dr. Commons is healthy, but our other full-time doctor has contracted the disease and is getting worse by the minute. So, Dr. Johnson, if you will scrub and work with Dr. Bjorklund.” Miriam paused. “I hope you brought a uniform. All we have are regular nurses’ aprons.”
“I did. Where do I change?”
“The bathroom would be all right.” She pointed in the direction. “I will assign each of you to two patients to start. Dinner will be in an hour, but we try to feed around the clock for those who have so much trouble swallowing.”
Astrid headed for room one. Time to check Elizabeth again. Both of them were sleeping, Thorliff in the chair by her bed. His neck was now visibly swollen. She carefully unwrapped the dressing on his arm. It was worse too. Much worse. She wrapped it in clean bandaging. “Thorliff, please go lie down on the other bed.”
“I can help you.” The rasp in his voice startled him. He laid his hand on his throat and blinked. “Getting worse, right?”
She nodded. “You have to drink. Fill your glass from that pitcher and keep drinking. I can work more if you will move to the other bed. Our new staff members arrived a bit ago. I’ll be right back.” Back to the kitchen for broth in a cup and a spoon.
When Dr. Johnson joined her in room one, he asked, “Why are you not using a straw?”
“We have run out of them, and patients with diphtheria are not able to suck in the liquid due to the swelling in the throat.”
He nodded. “We did bring a box of straws. They are in the supply room.”
“Thank you.” She shook Elizabeth gently. “Time to get more into you.” She set the cup and spoon on the bedside stand. “Let’s get you sitting up.”
Elizabeth nodded, but as soon as she tried to move, the cough wracked her so hard the bed shook.
Astrid motioned to the young man to assist with getting the pillow in place.
Thorliff swung his feet up on the bed, watching them as he sipped.
With Elizabeth propped up, Astrid wiped her face with a warm cloth and introduced her helper.
“Thank you for coming.”
He had to lean down to hear her. “You are welcome.” Automatically he took her wrist and counted for her pulse, then looked at Astrid, eyes slightly widened. She nodded back.
“If you would please check her heart and lungs, then her throat after she drinks some.” She held the cup to Elizabeth’s mouth. She swallowed several times before she started coughing again. “I have the cough syrup right here, but you need some broth first.”
“Sorry. How is Thorliff?”
“Drink.”
“Steam room?”
“After this.”
It took both her and Dr. Johnson to help Elizabeth to the steam room, but they quickly got her settled in a chair near the steaming kettle.
“Can you sit by yourself?”
She shrugged before tipping her head back on the cushion, her eyes drifting closed. “I can’t . . . cough . . . anything u
p.”
“I know. Doctor, will you please go ask Miriam for the cough syrup.” Returning to Elizabeth, she continued. “I should just carry a bottle in my pocket, much as we go through.”
“It . . . helps.” A pause, then, “Thorliff?”
“Neck worse, running a temp, and the ulcer is still there. We’ll keep treating it.” She would not tell Elizabeth that the ulcer was out of control, not responding to treatment.
After they put Elizabeth back to bed, she beckoned Astrid closer. “So tired. You take care of Thorliff.” With pauses between words, she was even harder to understand, the weak voice fading in and out.
“Of course.”
“After.” But she drifted off to sleep before Astrid could ask her what she meant.
That evening after supper and the patients were readied for the night or the next round of nursing, Astrid left instructions to be awakened if any emergencies occurred and gratefully sank into bed. She needed to tell . . . But that thought didn’t even get finished.
Deborah woke her with a touch and a whisper. “Astrid, come quick. Elizabeth.”
Astrid didn’t bother to put her shoes on, just dashed to room one.
Thorliff was holding his wife’s hand, tears streaming down his face. He smoothed her hair back and kissed her, then turned to Astrid. “She’s gone. I was watching her, and she gasped once and quit breathing. She could still breathe. Why did she die?”
Astrid dropped her stethoscope back around her neck. “I am sure her heart gave out.” She mopped the tears streaming down her own face and stroked Elizabeth’s cheek. “I think she knew it was coming.”
“How could she?”
“Sometimes people just know. All I know is she is out of pain and home in heaven.”
She came around the bed and put her arms around her older brother. “I’m sorry, Thorliff, I’m so sorry.”
He sobbed on her shoulder. “How do I tell Inga? Roald won’t understand, but Inga knows about heaven. After all, Far is there.” He stared at Astrid. “I can’t even tell her, can I? Through the window? If only I could send her out to Mor. Is it safe to do that yet?” He coughed so hard and long he couldn’t catch his breath. “Astrid, I have to get well.” He gasped between words.
“I’ll get the cough syrup.” She turned to see Deborah and the others in the doorway, tears streaming down their faces too.
“I’ll get it,” Deborah said. “We should have wakened Reverend Solberg. I’ll do it now.”
Astrid shrugged and handed her brother the glass of water. “Here, drink this. That will help and . . .” Her voice trailed off as a fresh wave of tears caught her. When it came, she poured the syrup into the cup on the stand and handed it to Thorliff. “Drink this slowly, and let it coat your throat.”
She turned to the bed of her dear sister-in-law, feeling they were really closer than sisters with all they had been through together. Ignoring her burning eyes, she gently pulled the sheet over Elizabeth, telling her good-bye as she did so.
“I’m so sorry,” Reverend Solberg whispered as he came into the room. “Thorliff, Astrid, I would like to read the prayers over her and for you before you move her.”
Astrid nodded and looked to Thorliff, who had moved to the chair and taken his wife’s hand again. “Do you want to be alone with her for a while?” Thorliff shook his head.
After folding back the sheet from Elizabeth’s face, the reverend opened his book and made the sign of the cross on her forehead. “Our Lord God is welcoming you home, we know, but we are bereft,” he said, his voice cracking on some of the words. “Please, Lord, may thy grace and peace surround us all, and the comfort only thou canst give.” He closed his book. “I know there are no words to convey my sorrow, but we do know God is right here with us. He promised to never leave us, and He has not for a moment left Elizabeth alone either. Heaven is as close as the last breath she breathed.”
Thorliff tried to clear his throat and instead started coughing. When the spasm passed, he propped his head, his elbows on his knees. Wiping his eyes with his fingers, he shook his head slowly as if it were too heavy to move. “Who will tell my children?”
“Thelma will. You know how they love and trust her.”
“How can we even have a funeral?”
“We can’t now. The burial will have to be tomorrow.”
“Ja. Is there a coffin? She has to have a coffin.”
“Ja, there will be.”
“If there is not one, we will build it.” Solberg laid his hand on Thorliff’s shoulder.
“We will take care of everything, and when this is all over, we will have a celebration of life for Elizabeth.”
Had someone made coffins for all the circus people who had died? The thought wandered through Astrid’s mind, chased by more tears. “I will call Mor first thing in the morning.”
“That’s not very far away.”
“I didn’t check the time she died.”
“I did,” Deborah said. “It was 3:04 a.m.”
“I . . . I think I better go to bed.” Thorliff sounded woozy.
Astrid helped him to his feet. “The cough syrup has a bit of laudanum in it to help control the coughing. It will help you sleep too.” After he flopped on the bed, she pulled the sheet up. “I am going to open the window so you get some fresh air. God bless.” She kissed his forehead and stared down at him. He still had not really recovered from grieving for Far. This would be much worse.
CHAPTER 24
O God, no, not Elizabeth.” Perhaps the practice of keening was not so bad. She fought to suck in a breath of air.
“Mor! Are you there?” Astrid’s voice shouting through the dropped earpiece.
Ingeborg sank down on the chair Clara had just scooted against the back of her knees.
“Mor!”
Ingeborg swallowed, fighting to answer. She picked up the dreaded black thing and answered. “I am here. Sorry I dropped you. I have to go to Inga.”
“No! You cannot!” Astrid broke all doctor ethics and screamed into the telephone. Her voice dropped. “Please, Mor. Stay home. We don’t know if the antitoxin has worked enough in you yet.”
“But my babies.”
“I know.” Astrid’s voice was laced with tears too. “Who is with you?”
“Freda and Clara, making breakfast. No, they are both right beside me. How is Thorliff?”
“Sleeping. I gave him extra cough syrup.”
“Is he worse?” Ingeborg forced the words through the tears. As the silence stretched, she added, “Tell me!”
“Ja, he is worse. If only . . .” The last was a whisper.
“Does Thelma know yet?”
“No. I am calling her next. Thomas Devlin and Reverend Solberg built the coffin sometime after four this morning, or they are in the process. They will bury her. Mor, we cannot even have a funeral.”
Ingeborg’s mothering instincts kicked back in. “Oh, Astrid, you are having to carry so much.” And now the hospital would be all her responsibility. O Lord, keep her safe, be her strong right arm. She felt a hand on either shoulder. Who would be standing by Astrid? And she couldn’t even go home to Daniel. Only you, Lord God. O God, hold her! “We are all praying.” That sounded inadequate, but she knew it wasn’t.
“I know that most likely is what is keeping me both sane and healthy.” A pause. “Mor, I cannot catch this.”
“You have the antitoxin at work, and you are strong in our Lord.”
“At least we have more nurses, and Dr. Kenneth Johnson, another resident, arrived yesterday. He is sleeping right now. He and Dr. Commons are a wonderful help.”
“Are you eating right and sleeping?”
“Ja, I am. I have to be careful, I know. So many deaths. So many.”
Ingeborg heard her daughter blow her nose and sniff again. O Lord. That was all she could seem to pray.
“I was afraid Elizabeth would die after Inga was born, but with Roald she recovered fairly quickly for her. But she had no strength
to fight with. She knew it. I think I envy her. She is free of this horror. Promise me you will stay home.”
“I promise, much against my heart’s cries. Take care of Thorliff. We can’t lose Thorliff too. Do you want me to call Thelma? Kaaren?”
“I’d appreciate it if you would call Kaaren. Right now I am glad Elizabeth’s folks do not have a telephone. I will have to send a telegram, but at least I won’t have to talk with them.”
“Ja, it’s easier.”
“I love you, Mor. When this is over . . .”
“We will recover, all of Blessing, and you will come out here, and we will be together.” Please, Lord. “’Bye.” She listened for Astrid’s answer and, with a shaking hand, set the earpiece back. Freda hugged her from one side and Clara the other.
“You come out on the porch, and we will have our coffee and breakfast out there. The birds are singing, the men are about done milking, and . . .”
“Where is Emmy?”
“I heard her moving around. She’ll be down soon.”
Ingeborg allowed herself to be led out to the porch to sit on the cushioned settee. Freda sat beside her, still holding her hand. Her head wagging, too heavy to hold still, she let the back cushion help her. Eyes closed, she listened to the songs of the morning, birds singing, a rooster crowing, Patches scratching, his leg thumping on the wooden floor, a thrush heralded from the garden, a cow bellered, sheep bleated. Life went on in spite of the tragedies, the sorrows. She felt a small body sit beside her and lean against her shoulder.
“Inga needs us.”
“Ja, she does, but we have to stay here. I promised Astrid we would not go into town.”
Clara bumped the door open with her hip and set the tray on the table. She beckoned Emmy to follow her.
Emmy kissed Ingeborg’s cheek and slid off the cushion. “Be right back.”
Freda handed Ingeborg a steaming cup and took one herself. Together they cupped their hands around the warmth, welcome even though the air was only slightly chilly, thanks to the shade. “The strawberries are ripening. I will pick some for dinner.”
“There are enough?”
Streams of Mercy Page 23