My First Book--Scene Eleven (b)

This particular scene runs quite long, so I've divided into two different posts. This is the second of the two posts

As before, instead of giving a long list of links for you to read the previous scenes in my book, might I point you to the "Categories" at the left? Mosey down to "my first book--scenes", click there and scroll down to wherever you have to start.

Go on. We'll wait for you.

Back? Okay. Without further ado, I give you Scene Eleven, part two.

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I stood back, ushering them in with relief. “Please, come through. Ruth is in her bedroom. Right this way.”

“I appreciate you coming so soon,” I said. “She had a temperature of one hundred three degrees last night. I believe it may be a bit higher this morning, but I’ve not checked yet.”
Ruth, snuggling with Herman as we walked into her room, stared at the doctor, her eyes wide with fright.

“Ruthie, this is Dr. Cosgrove. He’s come to see what he can do to make you feel better,” I said.
She scooted sideways across her bed, inching away from us and doing her best to plaster herself against the wall.

“Good morning, Ruth,” Dr. Cosgrove said, addressing his patient directly. “Your mommy tells me you’ve been coughing since last night.”

Still clutching her bear to her chest, she nodded. She coughed into his fur and whooped in an effort to catch her breath.

The doctor withdrew his stethoscope from his bag and sat on the side of her twin-sized bed. “I need to listen to your lungs,” he told her as he placed the earpieces in his ears, “and I need you to breathe as normally as possible, okay?”

She nodded and took two full breaths before coughing again.

“Any other symptoms before the coughing?” he asked me. After listening to her lungs and heart, he palpated lymph nodes and looked in her nose, mouth, and ears.

“She was sneezing some yesterday evening,” I said.

Minerva, Dr. Cosgrove’s nurse, had stood quietly at his side, but she began digging in his bag as I spoke. “Will she take a thermometer in her mouth?” she asked.

“Most of the time,” I said. “As long as she doesn’t start coughing, I think she’ll be fine.”

“If it is whooping cough, we can expect the temperature to be elevated for some time,” the doctor said. “Of course, she’ll be quite contagious, so it’s important you not let anyone else around her. You must stay away from others, as well, while she is sick.” He returned the stethoscope to his bag and motioned for me to join him in the doorway as the nurse took Ruth’s temperature.

“There’s a test I need to do to confirm this is whooping cough. I’ll have to swab the inside of her nose, and she’ll likely fight it; you’ll need to restrain her.”

I nodded, not at all looking forward to the fight to come. “Is there anything she can take to get through this?” I asked.

He shook his head. “The only thing I can suggest is to dose her with wild black cherry bark syrup to lessen the coughing. I brought some, just in case,” he said. “Also, when she coughs, make sure she’s sitting up. She may strain with the coughing and vomit, so that’s safest.”

“Already has,” I said.

Dr. Cosgrove nodded. “Nothing heavier than broth, then. Feed her in small portions through the day.”

“One hundred three point six degrees, doctor,” the nurse said.

“Thank you,” he said and turned back to me. “A fever is the body’s way of fighting infection, so I’m not too worried about it right now. If it gets much higher, though, you’ll want to bathe her in cold water and swab her body with alcohol to keep her cool.” Turning back to the nurse, he said, “Get me a culture swab, please.”

I sat on the bed and gathered Ruth into my arms. “Honey, the doctor needs to put this in your nose. It’ll tickle, but you must sit very still, okay?”

Dr. Cosgrove knelt beside the bed with the swab in his hand. “Mrs. Turner, I’ll need you to hold her arms and legs down and keep her body still while I do this.” He turned to Ruth and asked, “Are you ready?”

Not surprisingly, she turned away from him laid her cheek against my shoulder, and began whimpering. I sat on the side of her bed, taking her onto my lap and wrapping my arms around her arms and legs when she began to wriggle away. She screamed and fought unsuccessfully to escape. As Minerva held her head steady, the doctor swabbed one of Ruth’s nostrils quickly but thoroughly. He sat back, and I took that as my cue to loosen my grip; Ruth immediately buried her face in my breast and, crying, began coughing again.

I smoothed her hair, running my fingers through her soft curls, and kissed the top of her head. “It’s all over, Ruthie. It’s okay. We’re all done, sweetie,” I said, trying to soothe her. A tear slipped down my cheek, and I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Mama’s right here. Shhh. You’re gonna be just fine, baby.”

Dr. Cosgrove laid a hand on my shoulder. “I’d go ahead and give her the syrup. I’m afraid it’ll be a while before the culture is ready, though.”

“Thank you, doctor,” I said as I shifted Ruth onto the bed and kissed her cheek, promising her that I would return soon.

Ruth continued coughing, whooping in great gulps of air when her lungs completely emptied.

As I stood, Dr. Cosgrove walked back to Ruth’s bedside, rummaging in his pocket. Though she continued to cough, she was not too ill to recoil in fear when he neared her.

He smiled, his eyes softening as he knelt beside her. “I promise I won’t hurt you,” he said as he patted her on the knee. “Here.” He pulled a hand from the pocket on his white coat. “Am I forgiven if I give you this?” he asked, producing a peppermint stick, his peace offering.

She looked up at me, her eyes questioning. “Can I, Mommy?”

I nodded. “What do you say, Ruthie?”

Her nearest hand shot out and grasped the candy. “Thank you,” she said as she wrapped her lips around the tasty treat.

“You are quite welcome,” he said and then turned to me. “The peppermint will also soothe her throat for a time. It’s a bit messy, but it does the job.” He smiled, ruffling her hair and patting the top of her head.

“Thank you so much, Dr. Cosgrove,” I said, truly grateful for his prompt help and caring bedside manner. I looked at Ruth and noticed her coughing had temporarily ceased.

“My pleasure,” he said. Looking around, he said, “Minerva’s left the syrup on your dining table.” He turned to leave, I noticed Minerva already standing by the door, but then he stopped. “One other thing. Assume this is whooping cough we’re dealing with here. You’ll remember how contagious I told you this is, so please do not take her around anyone until after the whooping has stopped for at least twenty-four hours, and make sure she doesn’t still have a fever.”

“Of course. I’ll see to it,” I said.