Lethal Remedy Read Online Free PDF Page A

seriously ill." Ingersoll turned from the patient and addressed his words to Mrs. Ferguson. "She has an infection in her bloodstream that will almost certainly kill her if we can't eradicate it." If he saw the mother's shudder and the girl's grimace, he ignored them. "Our only chance for that is the administration of an experimental medication. We've had remarkable success—actually a 100 percent cure rate—with it. Although side effects and complications are possible, we've seen none of these. I need your permission to proceed."

"What if . . . ?"

"The details are spelled out in the consent forms that Dr. Pearson will go over with you. If you don't wish to sign them, of course, the choice is yours, including responsibility for the consequences. If you proceed with treatment, Dr. Pearson will administer the first dose today." Ingersoll looked at his watch. "I'm afraid I have to leave now, to attend a consultants' meeting. I'll look in again in a couple of days, should you consent to treatment for your daughter."

Rip watched Ingersoll turn on his heel and march out the door as though going into battle. He didn't know what this "consultants' meeting" represented, but he was certain of one thing. As of thirty minutes ago, it had not been on Ingersoll's agenda. It was a result of that phone call. And it was a command performance.

 

 

Sara frowned as she searched the chart rack at the ICU nurses' station. The slot for Room 6 was empty. Was it misfiled in the hurry of ICU routine? No, Chelsea's chart wasn't in any of the other slots. Maybe it was on the ward clerk's desk, awaiting execution of an order for lab tests or an adjustment of treatments. But no one except Sara or her resident, Luke Sutton, would have written such an order. And Luke was out today, at home nursing a lower respiratory infection that appeared to verge on pneumonia.

"Dr. Miles?" Sara turned to see Janice, one of the ICU nurses, holding out a chart. "Are you looking for Chelsea's chart?"

Sara took the proffered chart. "Thank you. Is there something new?"

"Dr. Ingersoll and Dr. Pearson were here earlier. They started Chelsea on EpAm848. Dr. Pearson drew her baseline labs himself, and then sat with her while she got the first dose of her medicine. You just missed him."

Sara took a deep breath. The good news was that Chelsea was now getting the antibiotic that could save her life. The double-barreled bad news was the possibility of a side effect or complication—all the reassurances notwithstanding—as well as the likelihood that her ex-husband's bedside manner hadn't improved. Sara hated to think of the psychological damage Jack Ingersoll might have inflicted on the sixteen-year-old girl in that bed.

Sara thanked Janice and carried the chart with her into Chelsea Ferguson's room. In stark contrast with her attitude when Sara left her this morning, Mrs. Ferguson seemed calm and serene. She was brushing her daughter's chestnut hair. Sara wasn't sure—maybe this was wishful thinking—but there appeared to be a bit of color in Chelsea's cheeks, color that had not been there since the day of her admission.

Sara smiled at the mother and daughter. "The nurse tells me that Dr. Ingersoll was here earlier, and that you decided to go ahead with the drug treatment he offered."

Mrs. Ferguson looked up from her task. "He made an appearance, acting like we should be grateful that he spared us a few moments. I know that he must be affected by seeing so many seriously ill patients, but that's not an excuse for just plain rude behavior."

"I'm sorry. Dr. Ingersoll is a very busy man nowadays, and I'm afraid his bedside manner isn't the best. But he's the sole source for . . ." Sara paused and tried to choose her words carefully. "Dr. Ingersoll controls the use of the experimental drug that gives us the best hope of licking this thing."

"He put it a bit more bluntly than that." Mrs. Ferguson gave a particularly vigorous swipe with the brush, and Chelsea