Thanks to Lucy, she was all too aware that her daughter was being blamed by other Knockroe parents – and the school – for infecting Rosie. She didn’t need to be made to feel guilty about that from the family doctor as well.
Madeleine placed her cup and saucer on the tray and stood up. She appreciated the house call that Dr Barrett had made, but now it was time for him to go. She had more than enough to do around the house and she still had Clara to attend to.
And this whole conversation was making her feel really uncomfortable.
‘I’ve already sent Kate our best wishes. I know what she’s going through, after all.’ Madeleine intended her words to sound soft, but as they fell from her lips she realised there was more of an edge to them than she’d intended.
But she just couldn’t face any more guilt, any more regret. This, taken with the stress and worry about Clara over the last week, was getting on top of her. What was done was done and there was nothing Madeleine could do about it now. She couldn’t go back and change things or stop Clara from contracting the disease. The time for such decision-making was years ago, long gone. And at that time, she and Tom had made the decision that felt right, that was the best one for their family. She couldn’t think about the impact of that choice on other people just now. It was all too overwhelming.
Madeleine just wanted the doctor to leave so she could deal with this on her own, away from stern glares and accusing tones. Though if this was what her doctor – a close acquaintance – was saying, she wondered what strangers or indeed other locals would say when they heard about Rosie’s hospital admission.
Dr Barrett clearly picked up on the mood. ‘Well, I suppose that I should be going,’ he said, standing up. ‘Let me know if there is any change with Clara. Otherwise, I think she is indeed on the mend. But again you and Tom should think about what I said about the other jabs. It’s still not too late.’
He focused a keen eye on Madeleine then and she felt as if all of her thoughts, doubts, and worries were on display. Incredibly, despite her relief that Clara was on the mend, this visit had actually made her feel worse; had sent her entire world out of whack.
It was truly awful that little Rosie was in hospital; there was no question about that. She felt for Kate and she was desperately sorry that Clara’s infection had played some part in that. It wasn’t her daughter’s fault though; these things were always a risk, and nobody had any control over how another child might fight infection.
And, more to the point, wasn’t it common knowledge that Rosie was unvaccinated too?
In any case, Clara was going to be OK, that was the main thing.
It was the only thing that Madeleine should be thinking about just then.
I felt my eyes grow heavy as I sat in the recliner that had been placed in the corner of Rosie’s hospital room. However, as soon as I got close to sleep, some beep or boop would be emitted from the machines surrounding my little girl’s bed, and I would spring awake, my heart thumping.
I was exhausted. I hadn’t truly slept in days, and felt at times both over-fuelled by adrenaline and as lethargic as if I had been trying to run underwater. This must be what torture by sleep deprivation felt like. I would honestly sell my soul to the highest bidder if it meant that I would get more than an hour of sleep at a time.
Of course, it wasn’t as if I didn’t have people around me telling me to take care of myself. Lucy, Rosie’s paediatrician Dr Ryan, various shift nurses – they all told me I needed to sleep, and I knew they were right. I understood that I needed to focus on myself too, but I found it impossible. The stress alone was making my body rigid with anxiety. No matter if I wanted to rest, I felt constantly on. My mind still raced with worry and the never-ending chorus of ‘what if?’
Until Rosie started to show signs of any improvement, my life was at a standstill.
After fixing my hair into a more comfortable top knot, I got up from where I sat and walked to her bedside, dropping to a kneel. Her eyes were closed and she was sleeping. They had her on a respirator at the moment because she was having problems breathing due to the pneumonia. I would have given anything to remove the machines and tubes that seemed to engulf her. I wanted her to be awake so I could talk to her and reassure her that she would be OK, but I knew that sleep was good for her and it was what she needed.
Resting my head against the rail of the hospital bed, I felt myself starting to nod off again until I heard someone come into the room.
‘Kate?’ It was Frances, a friendly nurse I’d come to know in the six days we’d been here.
She checked on my little girl’s condition, but from her chart I already knew there was little to report. They’d taken blood tests on admission to the hospital which had confirmed pneumonia. As it was, we just had to wait for the antibiotics to do their job.
Wait. It seemed like all I’d been doing this past week.
To my surprise, the nurse took a seat alongside me. ‘How are you?’ she asked, touching my arm. ‘You know you really should try to—’
‘I know. But sleep isn’t easy…’
‘I understand. It’s a horrible time, but rest assured we’re doing all we can. Measles, it can be such a nasty business when it takes this course. But, to be honest, it’s a long time since I’ve come across an outbreak in this hospital.’
She paused for a moment and then leaned forward in her chair, clasping her hands in front of her. ‘I heard that the other little girl from Rosie’s school has since recovered?’
‘Apparently so.’
‘And there haven’t been any other cases in the school or in the town apart from Rosie?’
‘No, I don’t think so. Not that I know of anyway. Thank goodness.’
Appearing thoughtful, Frances seemed to be studying me. ‘I understand the reason why Rosie isn’t vaccinated. And I know it was a hard choice that you and your late husband had to make. But do you happen to know why the other little girl wasn’t?’
‘I really don’t know the family all that well…’ I answered. My head felt foggy.
‘No idea if it’s a political position? Something religious perhaps?’
She seemed to be just making idle conversation, but something about her tone of voice made me perk up. I tried to climb through the swamp of grey matter in my head.
‘Why do you ask? And what does it matter?’
But the nurse didn’t have time to answer my question, because at that moment Lucy entered the waiting room with Christine Campbell in tow.
Handing over my recent post as well as some other bits and pieces I needed from the house (my iPad and charger, one of Rosie’s favourite dinosaurs, a random book that had been on my bedside table), Lucy took a seat beside me. Christine sat on my other side as I introduced Frances.
‘Christine was really anxious about Rosie,’ Lucy supplied when I looked curiously at our new visitor. It was nice of Christine to come, and surprising too when I didn’t know her especially well.
But that was one of the positives about living in a small community.
‘Oh you’re all from the same town?’ Frances smiled. ‘I was just asking Kate about that other little girl with measles. Do you know her too?’ she enquired pleasantly.
I shifted uncomfortably. Given that Clara was almost certainly the cause of Rosie’s current trials, I didn’t like to think about the Coopers all that much. While I was happy that little Clara had recovered,