Read Online Fever by Robin Cook - Free Book Online

from the nurse, Cathryn retraced her steps back to the main lobby. It wasn’t until she entered the elevator that her old fear of hospitals returned.Staring at a sad little girl in a wheelchair, Cathryn realized that pediatric hospitals were particularly unnerving. The concept of a sick child made her feel weak. She tried to concentrate on the floor indicator above the doors, but a powerful, incomprehensible urge drew her eyes back to the sick child. When the doors opened on the fifth floor and she stepped off, her legs felt rubbery and her palms were sweaty.
    Cathryn was heading for the Marshall Memorial isolation unit, but the fifth floor also contained the general intensive care unit and the surgical recovery room. In her emotionally sensitive state, Cathryn was subjected to all the sights and sounds associated with acute medical crisis. The beep of the cardiac monitors mixed with the cries of terrified children. Everywhere there was a profusion of tubes, bottles, and hissing machines. It was an alien world populated with a bustling staff who seemed, to Cathryn, to be unreasonably detached from the horror around them. The fact that these children were being helped in the long run was lost on Cathryn.
    Pausing to catch her breath in a narrow hallway lined with windows, Cathryn realized that she was crossing from one building to another within the medical center. The hall was a peaceful bridge. She was alone for a moment until a man in a wheelchair with DISPATCHER written across the back motored past her. Glass test tubes and jars filled with all sorts of body fluid samples jangled in a metal rack. He smiled, and Cathryn smiled back. She felt better. Fortified, she continued on.
    The Marshall Memorial isolation unit was easier for Cathryn to deal with. All the doors to the rooms were closed and there were no patients to be seen. Cathryn approached the nurses’ station which seemed more like a ticket counter at a modern airport than the nerve center for a hospital ward. It was a large square area with a bank of TV monitors. A clerk looked up and cheerfully asked if he could help her.
    â€œI’m looking for the Schonhauser boy,” said Cathryn.
    â€œFive twenty-one,” said the clerk pointing.
    Cathryn thanked him and walked over to the closed door.She knocked softly. “Just go right in,” called the clerk. “But don’t forget your gown.”
    Cathryn tried the door. It opened and she found herself in a small anteroom with shelving for linen and other supplies, a medicine locker, a sink, and a large soiled-laundry hamper. Beyond the hamper was another closed door containing a small glass window. Before Cathryn could move, the inner door opened and a gowned, masked figure stepped into the room. With rapid movements the individual discarded the paper mask and hood in the trash. It was a young nurse with red hair and freckles.
    â€œHi,” she said. The gloves went into the trash, the gown into the hamper. “You going in to see Tad?”
    â€œI was hoping to,” said Cathryn. “Is Mrs. Schonhauser in there, too?”
    â€œYup, she’s here every day, poor woman. Don’t forget your gown. Very strict reverse precautions.”
    â€œI . . .” started Cathryn, but the harried nurse was already through the door.
    Cathryn searched through the shelves until she found the hoods and the masks. She put them on, feeling ridiculous. The gown was next but she put it on like a coat. The rubber gloves were more difficult and she never got the left one all the way on. With the half-empty fingers dangling from her hand, she opened the inner door.
    The first thing she saw was a large plastic enclosure like a cage surrounding the bed. Although the plastic fragmented the image, Cathryn was able to make out Tad Schonhauser’s form. In the raw fluorescent light the boy was a pale, slightly greenish color. There was a low hiss of oxygen. Marge Schonhauser was seated to