Elly pushed her stethoscope into her ears and listened to John’s breathing. The lower lobes were clear with no rales, and she ruled out pneumonia. ‘You can have a post-viral cough that lingers after a cold.’
John nodded. ‘Thing is, this cough seems to be getting worse, not better.’
Elly’s radar went on alert. ‘How do you mean?’
‘Well, when I cough, I can’t seem to stop and it’s hard to get my breath.’
She checked his pulse, which was regular and ruled out any cardiac issues. ‘What about your breathing when you stop coughing?’
‘That’s fine.’
‘Do you or have you ever suffered from asthma?’
He shook his head and gave a tired smile. ‘They say Tassie’s got the cleanest air in the country but here I am hacking away like I’m a packet-a-day smoker.’
Her phone buzzed. ‘Excuse me for just one minute, John. ‘ She took the call from Sandy, who told her that she had four more people with similar symptoms to John waiting to see her. So much for a quiet Sunday.
Elly dropped the receiver back onto the cradle and returned her attention to John. She couldn’t smell any cigarette smoke on him but she asked the question anyway. ‘Do you smoke?’
‘Cancer sticks?’ Again he shook his head and started to cough. ‘No way.’
The last words were forced out amid a coughing fit that had John leaning forward, his shoulders hunched as he struggled to get in a breath. When it finally passed he slumped in his chair. ‘I tell you, Doc, it’s wearing me out.’
Elly rubbed the bridge of her nose. ‘How many times a day do you cough like this? ‘
He scratched his head. ‘A couple of times an hour, I reckon.’
She suddenly thought of his baby grandchild and with three clicks brought up the Morgan family’s medical history on her computer screen. ‘You said the baby had a cold too.’
‘Yeah. Told you I’m in the doghouse.’
Elly quickly scanned the date of birth of the baby and calculated the age. Three months. ‘Has your daughter come in with you?’
John nodded. ‘She drove me.’
Elly reached for the phone. ‘Sandy, please send in Rachel. ‘ She had a very strong suspicion that the baby had more than a cold.
‘John, have you been out much in Midden Cove while you’ve been here? To the pub or cafés?’
‘The wife and I took a cruise the other day, which was lovely, and most days I’ve walked down to the pub for a beer. You know, get out from under the wife’s feet.’
Elly stifled a groan. John had probably coughed over half the town.
Rachel walked in, cradling her baby, followed by an older woman Elly assumed was John’s wife.
‘Is there something wrong?’ The young mother sat down in the chair Elly had pulled up.
Elly spoke slowly. ‘Your dad says the baby’s had a cold so I thought while you were here I could examine her.’
Rachel relaxed. ‘Thank you. Yesterday I thought it was just the sniffles but Millie’s not feeding very well at all today.’
Elly laid the baby on the examination table. As she unwrapped the bunny rug, the wave of longing for a child of her own slugged her under the ribs in the same way it had done for the last three years.
The child whimpered. ‘Has she vomited or had trouble breathing?’
‘She keeps pulling off the breast but that’s because her nose is blocked, right?’
No. Elly noticed the child’s breathing was laboured and her lips were tinged with blue. Millie was one sick baby.
‘I’m going to send off some throat swabs from John and Millie and although we won’t know definitively until the results are in, I have a strong suspicion that they both have whooping cough.’
A stunned expression froze Rachel’s face. ‘But that’s a kid’s disease from a hundred years ago. I thought we’d cured it?’
John sucked in a sharp intake of breath as his wife gasped. ‘I thought the cough had to sound like a whoop?’
Elly shook her head in answer to both questions. ‘Unfortunately, it’s still alive and kicking, and adults and young babies don’t tend to have the whooping sound.’
Rachel’s eyes widened. ‘Oh, God, I thought it was just a cold.’
‘I want to admit you and Millie into hospital for observation and treatment.’ She wrapped up the baby and handed her back to her mother. ‘John, I’m going to give you antibiotics so you’re no longer infectious, but I have to ask you to stay in isolation at home for three weeks.’
John’s hand immediately touched Rachel’s shoulder, his face grey with despair. ‘Oh, love, I’m so sorry.’
‘It’s not your fault, John.’ Elly quickly tried to reassure them all. ‘Whooping cough has sporadic outbreaks and is always out in the community. It’s just unfortunate that Millie’s too young to have had all her immunisations. I need to treat everyone in the household and anyone else you’ve been in close contact with.’
John’s wife emitted a wail. ‘We were at the christening party on Sunday and we all cuddled the other three babies who were baptised with Millie.’
Elly pulled out a sheet of paper, trying to work out the best way to tackle the fact she had a possible epidemic of whooping cough on her hands. ‘OK, I need you to write me a list of everyone you know you’ve been in close contact with, especially young children and anyone who might not have been immunised against whooping cough.’
Her head raced as she jotted down all the things she had to do, which included notifying the health department and filling in all the paperwork that a communicable disease generated. The phone interrupted her thoughts.
‘Elly.’ Sandy’s usually calm voice sounded stressed. ‘Karen Jennings has just arrived with her baby, who’s having trouble breathing.’
Elly closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She was just one doctor and she had two sick babies and a growing queue of patients with similar symptoms to John. The babies needed close observation and she needed to treat everyone else as well as set up a vaccination clinic. Help from the health department in Hobart was hours away.
Gabe.
No, there has to be another way.
But she knew that was just wishful thinking. The people of Midden Cove needed another doctor as soon as possible and Gabe fitted that criteria. The fact he was her ex-lover and had pulverised her heart was totally irrelevant.
It had to be.
CHAPTER
