Error in Diagnosis Read Free Page A

symptoms?”
    â€œMostly neurologic: memory loss, confusion and severe muscle twitching of the legs. What’s particularlydisturbing is that many of the women have developed a dancing eye syndrome.”
    â€œI thought that only occurs in infants and children.”
    â€œExcept in rare circumstances, that’s usually the case.”
    â€œHow seriously ill are these women?”
    â€œSome of them are unresponsive and have been admitted to intensive care units.”
    â€œAny deaths?” she inquired, becoming more concerned with each passing second.
    â€œNone reported so far.”
    â€œJust exactly how many cases are we talking about here, Julian?”
    â€œThe CDC’s not exactly sure. Their best guess is around four hundred, but there could be a lot more.”
    She folded her arms and stared at the ceiling for a few seconds. “Has anybody considered that this may just be the beginning of some new strain of flu?”
    â€œNone of these women has a fever, sore throat or any other flu symptoms. And, none of their immediate family members is sick. Besides, why would a flu only affect women?” He lightly shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve spoken to a lot of people today. None of them has the first idea of what the hell’s going on.”
    â€œFor God’s sake, Julian, you have nine advanced degrees in health care and epidemiology.” She paused briefly to gather her thoughts and then asked, “What’s the first rule of diagnosis we all learned in medical school?”
    â€œThat’s easy. The most common things occur most frequently.”
    â€œIt’s a little corny, but it’s also very true, which leaves us with only two rational explanations: The first is this is a contagious disease. The second is we’re dealing with some type of widespread toxic exposure.”
    Just at that moment, Julian’s cell phone rang. He plucked it from the leather case and checked the display. “It’s the CDC,” he told her, raising the phone to his ear. “This is Julian Christakis,” he answered, pacing in a tight circle while he listened. He suddenly stopped, and then with a solemn nod added, “You’re absolutely sure. There’s no chance of an error? I see. Thanks very much for calling, Dr. Emerson. No, that won’t be necessary. I’m with the surgeon general now. I’ll brief her immediately.”
    Julian slid his car keys from the inside pocket of his black blazer. He was generally unflappable but at the moment his expression was ominous. He leaned back against the wall.
    â€œThere’s obviously something else,” Renatta stated in a guarded tone.
    â€œI’m afraid so. Not only are the hospitals reporting more new cases every hour but most of the women who were admitted earlier are getting worse. I don’t have the exact numbers but quite a few are now in a near coma.” He paused long enough to push his hand through his curly blond hair. Renatta was familiar with the habit, which was a sure sign of his uneasiness. “Emerson also confirmed something we suspected earlier.”
    â€œI’m listening.”
    â€œAll of the affected women are pregnant.”
    With his words seemingly suspended in midair, Renatta could feel the color drain from her face.
    The lobby lights flickered.
    â€œGive me a minute,” she told him. “I’ll let Stan know I have to leave. You can drive us to the office.”
    Renatta made her way back into the opera hall. Clutching her rolled-up program, she descended the center aisle. With her stomach clenched and plagued by a rising sense of urgency, it occurred to her that perhaps the most sensible thing to do was skip the trip to her office and have Julian drive her directly to the White House.

5

    DECEMBER EIGHTH
    The Island of Nevis, West Indies
    NUMBER OF CASES: 823
    Dr. Jack Wyatt’s plan to spend a relaxing week at a plush Caribbean hideaway