Alice sensed Analee’s discomfort, however competent she might be, and spoke up.
“No, Dr. Birdsong. There is so far only this inordinate fever and her bodily discomfort, the aching all over, but especially the terrible pain she complains of in her back and head and neck. As you can see, she’s also suffering from weakness and immense fatigue. She has pain, quite bad, in her stomach, but it doesn’t seem related to any nausea or intestinal difficulties.”
As Birdsong turned toward her, Alice detected a bit of relief on his face, both at her speaking up without embarrassment and at the absence of these symptoms of typhoid. She watched him shake his head slightly, as if in puzzlement.
“Good,” he said. “We may yet see them, and if so, Alice, I would advise you to confine yourself, with the children also, and let Analee take charge of our patient.” Birdsong shook his head, perhaps at himself. “As a matter of fact, out of an abundance of caution, Alice, let’s call the girls out now and implement this plan immediately.”
Birdsong opened the door behind them and motioned to the girls, a finger to his lips. Alice watched their concerned backward glances at their mother as they tiptoed out.
“You girls are quite the good nurses,” he said. “You must grow up quickly so I can hire you in my office. Now, for the moment, I’m worried about those dollies I know you love so much. I’m just hoping they have not fallen ill also. I wonder if you could run to your room and check on them. I’m sure they have been missing you and wondering where on earth you are and why you don’t come back to take care of them.”
“Will you make our mama well now?” Maggie asked.
“Will you, please?” Delia chimed in.
“I’ll do my very best, girls. Just like you will for your dolls. And Mama is going to need lots of rest, so we must keep the house very quiet. Can you help do that? That means your dollies can’t be crying now, so you’ll have to stay close by and keep them happy, sing to them, and tell them stories. Miss Alice is going to help you. She will be fixing meals for you, so Analee can take good care of Mama. Do you have little strollers for them?” When the girls nodded, he continued. “Maybe Miss Alice would help you take them to the park for a stroll now and then. How does that sound?”
When they all turned to Alice, she looked from one to the other and nodded, though her heart sped up at the thought of guarding them outdoors alone. The girls’ faces broke into smiles, and they headed for their playroom.
“As to treatment,” Birdsong said to the women, “for the moment, we will simply do what we can. Which, unhappily, is not much.”
CHAPTER 44
Alice studied Analee, trying to assess the effect of all this on her. Some of her color had returned, and now she held the cloth loosely in front of her with both hands. She nodded first at Alice and then at the doctor.
“Well, now,” Analee said, “just what would the ‘not much’ be, Doctor? Sides what we doing already? Well, sides what I’m gone be doing now?”
The doctor shuffled his feet, his stance taking a more assured tone.
“What you are doing now for the fever is quite adequate, Analee. And, of course, you, too, Alice. What you have done already, and now your supervision of the girls. I know you are both worried and want to care for Constance and help her. But I do want you as safe from any possibility of contagion as possible. Analee, you can handle the wet cloths to cool her by yourself?”
Analee nodded. Alice imagined her alone there in that darkened room, swapping out over-warmed cloths for fresh ones from the large bowl, wringing and replacing them over and over. Alice imagined the dull, insistent pain in Analee’s back from stooping and standing with no assistance. But Analee stood stoically and nodded.
“What do you believe this to be, Dr. Birdsong?” Alice asked.
“I’m not at all sure. Hardly seems to be influenza. It could be any number of things, from typhoid fever to, less likely, typhus.”
He seemed to be talking to himself, Alice thought. Even the good doctor didn’t really know. It struck her how little any of them really knew.
“If her pain continues, you can give her the salicylic acid powder. It’s terribly bitter, truly unpleasant, and very hard on the stomach. You say she has pain in her stomach now?”
Analee nodded.
Alice pondered his repeated verification of information. He seemed almost to be repeating it to himself. And so, she asked, “What purpose can be served by waiting when Constance is in such pain?”
Dr. Birdsong regarded her with what she felt was a respectful gaze.
“The salicylic acid doesn’t work quickly, but once it does, it offers fairly long-lasting relief. However, it is prone to induce nausea and stomach pain in a fair number of users, so I’m just hesitant to try it yet. It doesn’t heal anything, or I would be giving it to her this minute, I assure you. Are you by any chance familiar with its use, Alice?”
Alice thought on what she knew of “doctoring” out on the prairie.
“Is it by chance derived from willow bark, Doctor?”
“Why, yes, actually it is. May I ask how you know this?”
“Willow bark tea was a fairly common remedy for aches and pains, especially bad ones, when I was a child. I’m trying to think how I made that connection. I’m not entirely sure. Something about the bitter taste of it.” A hazy memory flashed through her mind of an old man her mother had helped nurse through some ailment. It was the shock of him spitting the tea straight back out that she most envisioned.
“I’m impressed that you would remember it at all.”
Alice chuckled. “It’s nothing to be impressed about, Doctor. Just one of those fuzzy tidbits that stays in your head somewhere. I would likely not remember it at all had you not emphasized the bitterness of it. And its slowness to take effect, yet then be quite effective. Those are properties I do remember my father talking on about quite vehemently when my mother would serve him up a cup of willow bark tea for his aching joints on the farm.”
At the thought of her parents together in the kitchen, beside the woodstove, Alice was hit with sudden nostalgia. She rarely thought of them together, was more prone to remember her mother as simply her own, her father and brothers as outsiders. But, of course, there had been a marriage between her parents. Her mother had tended to both her father and her brothers, just as she had to Alice. The realization hit her that, of course, her mother had not belonged to her alone. and she almost gasped in disbelief. She wondered if her father and brothers, like her, had thought of her mother as uniquely theirs.
“Yes, the tea from the willow bark has long been known as an effective remedy. Hundreds of years, actually, maybe thousands. The more recent salicylic acid powder is a concentrated form derived from it, far more bitter, but also more effective. Also, far harder on the stomach. So, advances also have their drawbacks.” After picking up his bag, the doctor turned to the stairs. “For now, Alice, I want you and the children to keep yourselves distanced from the sickroom and from any cleaning that may be necessary. Do you by chance also cook?”
“Yes, of course.” She had a flash of loading the woodstove with her mother. Alice wondered what woman did not cook. Well, perhaps those who were privileged to be waited upon, she mused. She found herself wondering what sort of home this man had grown up in.
“Then I will ask you to care for the children and cook, if you will, while Analee cares for Constance. Analee, will you be able to sleep in the armchair? As you have moments to do so . . . catnaps. And still keep the cloths as cool as possible on Constance’s face and neck?”
“You ain’t even got to ask that, Dr. Birdsong. You know better than that. How long I been knowing you now?” Analee flicked the corner of her apron at him.