First, Do No Honest Harm

First Do No Honest Harm

Chapter One

The ventilator mask enveloped her mother’s entire face. Watching from behind the glass window of the patient room, Lenora dragged her opal gem back and forth across the chain of her neck. She didn’t have to be in there to hear that God awful silence combined with that pressurized hiss of oxygen flowing in and out, in and out.

As if she knew, her mother’s eyes fluttered open and with a slight turn of her head toward the window, she looked – imploring – at her daughter.

Lenora understood the look: She must finish what her mother started. She must promise to finish her mother’s hard work for a cure against the virus.

Then a doctor blocked her view to give her mother her dose of medication.

Lenora clinched her fist inside her lab coat making her way back to her office. Her mother, a great physician, to see this happen to her was a sacrilege to any medical practician who called themselves an MD.

“Dr. Lasker. Dr. Lasker.”

Lenora whirled back to find one of her nurses pulled her by the elbow.

“Doctor, hurry you must see this.”

Crowds hoarded around the waiting rooms to patients, medical staff, janitorial, alike. People searched for the nearest plasma or streaming device they could find while others buried their faces in cellphones. Lenora followed her nurse to a plasma in the family medicine waiting room. “What’s happening?”

“The president just made a public announcement to the people, and the news is covering it.” An old man told her.

“Just a few hours ago,” a serious anchorwoman reported, “the president gave an announcement. We have Mike Merandz in Washington. Mike.”

The screen split between the newsroom anchorwoman to an anchorman who stood on some part of the White House property.

“Thank you, Kate,” said the anchorman Mike, “it hasn’t even been a couple of hours since the President’s announcement of the Operation Warp Relocation. A program that all citizens are to evacuate because of the statewide pandemic. The president has issued the state quote quarantined unquote.”

Lenora felt like her heart was wedged in her throat.

An outbreak of confusion talk, jargon, overlapped the news. “Quiet! Everyone! Quiet!” A sharp voice commanded.

A handsome doctor with dark brown hair stared at the screen.

“Thomas.” Lenora spoke his name under her breath; her heart racing.

“According to the OWR issued by the president,” Mike continued, “it orders all “safe” individuals. These people are to leave without exception.”

“And what of those who have been contaminated by the virus?” Anchorwoman Kate asked.

“Unfortunately, those individuals will stay here, in state, for healthcare provided by medical staff appointed personally by the president’s administration. Along with the military to oversee. People are mandated to evacuate within three days.”

“Thank you, Mike,” said Kate.

“Yes, Kate.”

The anchorwoman resumed coverage from the newsroom. “As all of us are aware, the President and his administration have acknowledged a potential vaccine but has been put on standstill for further testing. The president quote “for the good of all.” He asked of his citizens to remain calm –

Further commotion erupted throughout the waiting room, dying out Anchorwoman Kate’s last words of the breaking news.

“What are we going to do? Where are we supposed to go if we evacuate?”

“I am not leaving my six-year-old here!”

“Oh, God.” A woman exclaimed. “Jesus.” She sprawled out onto the floor. Those around her and two nurses tried to help her up. Police and military walked the floor escorting people.

“Ladies and Gentlemen. May I have your attention, please.”

Lenora recognized Dr. Pastor’s voice over the intercom.

“I’m Dr. Pastor the Chief Medical Officer of the hospital. Everyone except medical personnel are to be escorted in an orderly fashion to the lobby where you will receive further instructions of the evacuation.”

People began to file out of the room and headed for elevators and stairwells. Lenora caught Thomas’ eye and her heart skipped a beat. His milk chocolate eyes reminded her of Christmas chocolate. She started to walk towards him until she saw Brenda standing next to him.

Chapter 2

Dr. Pastor, Lenora, and Thomas were flown, all expenses paid by the President to the CDC Roybal Campus to attend a meeting with the CDC, Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, six months ago.

Health preventive procedures were maintained throughout the entire building.

“These two,” introduced Dr. Pastor. He spoke behind a mask, “are my very best associates. This is Ms. Lenora Lasker, a Virologist Specialist . . .”

“Yes, yes,” said the CDC Director, “winner of the Ann Palmenberg Junior Investigator Award, the Frosch Prize, and the daughter of the prominent Sophia Lasker. You look like her. We were honored that she worked for us.”

Lenora’s heart swelled with pride. “And don’t forget top of my class at John Hopkins.”

The men laughed.

“This is Dr. Thomas Finland,” Dr. Pastor continued, “an infectious disease specialist.”

“Mr. Finland,” said the Director, “the recipient of the Alexander Fleming Award. It is a pleasure, too.”

“Thank you, sir.” Thomas nodded.

Please.” The Director gestured toward the table.

This is it. Lenora thought. She had to control herself from wrinkling the folder that held all their documentation. Her mother couldn’t make it because of a headache, but it was her research and two years of experimenting and testing between Lenora and Thomas that they finally had a vaccine.

Lenora glanced at Thomas who didn’t look at her. In fact, he hadn’t looked at her since they left.

Lenora told herself it didn’t matter. He will see. He’ll see they make great partners.

Until . . . Lenora dragged her opal gem across the chain . . . until Thomas provided his professional advice to decline the circulation of the vaccine.

“What was that?” Lenora said the minute she and Thomas got back to the hotel.

“I’m sorry.” Thomas had his hands on his hips and stared down at the carpet as if he could put a hole in it. “But I couldn’t lie by omission when the vaccine has the possibility of becoming ineffective in treatment.”

“All of our testing is based off my mom’s research and there’s no evidence to support –

“The vaccine has shown a common component of retraction,” interrupted Thomas. He continued not to look at her, which incensed her even more.

“The President is not going agree, if we are not all – why are doing this?

“Doing what?”

“Determined to prove our hard work is a lie. Doing this to us.” Lenora did not mean for it to come out the way it sounded, but it did because Thomas finally allowed his eyes to meet hers. His eyes the color of Christmas chocolate, the feeling of hope.

“It was never me who did anything to us. You allowed the work to consume you, to consume us.”

Lenora crossed her arms. “No. I just wasn’t going to end up having all my hard work go to waste and turn into some kind of Stepford wife. Isn’t that what you’re looking for in what’s her name? Brenda, is it?”

Thomas became the primary healthcare provider to Brenda’s brother, Brian, who was diagnosed with the virus a month ago. His back straightened, the width of his stance changed, and his whole demeanor became guarded. “I think that whatever is going on between Brenda and me is my business.”

Lenora’s heart ached whenever she recalled the times she saw them talking, walking around the hospital with coffee, or leaning on each other on those late nights Brian took a bad turn.

Lenora sucked in breath. She tried not to let her agonized thoughts go there, but now Thomas confirmed them. He was moving on.

Thomas left the room. Her cell dinged. Her mother texted; she tested positive for the virus.

****

The twist on the knob of the microscope. Focus. Focus. A six-month blood sample noted in log. Now compare it. Change out glass slide. Twist of the knob. Focus. Focus.

Lenora stomach dropped as if missing a step on a flight of stairs. She locked the microscope to see if she was seeing correctly. The present blood sample showed ineffective progression in the cells.

Lenora legs lost feeling and she slumped on the floor. Bottom line: there’s no vaccine.

Thomas had been right.

Dr. Lasker to urgent care. The intercom announced. Dr. Lasker to urgent care.

Lenora’s heels clicked and clacked hard running on the vinyl tile. She barely got there to see the doctor call it: her mother’s time of death.

Chapter 3

“Lenora, did you hear anything I said?” Thomas stood in front of her with a coffee in hand. “I said that maybe you should go home. Rest.”

He handed her the coffee and Lenora took it without thinking.

A nurse approached them. “Dr. Lasker. Dr. Finland. Dr. Pastor said he wants to meet with you two in his office.”

Lenora barely heard the nurse or noticed anyone as she and Thomas walked toward the chief’s office. Dr. Pastor was seated with the CDC Director.

“First,” said the CDC Director after everyone was re-introduced. “Please accept my condolences, Dr. Lasker. Your mother was a pioneer in the medical field and will surely be missed.”

Lenora swallowed hard but nodded.

“This is terrible with Dr. Lasker’s death, the evacuation, but we the CDC, need updated status on the vaccine. There’s only two days left and the President’s administration requires information.”

“Well,” started Dr. Pastor, “Dr. Lasker took point regarding the latest research.”

All three men stared at Lenora who stood there her blood pumping hard in her ears. Her mother is dead. Her mother’s last work was for nothing. There was no vaccine. How would she ever be able to tell them that hope is lost?

“I think,” said Dr. Pastor, “considering the circumstances we might have to relinquish the rights of this vaccine back to the CDC –

“The vaccine works.” Lenora shouted abruptly. Out of the corner of her eye, Thomas jerked. Dr. Pastor stared at with raised eyebrows and the CDC Director blinked at Lenora as if she grew two heads.

Lenora didn’t care about their reactions, but she would rather die than hand this vaccine, her mother’s last project in someone else’s hands. Her mother gave her this assignment. Appointed her! Nobody could do this better than she can.

Lenora gripped her opal necklace. “I-I assure you -push it, push it, push it her mind whirled, make them believe it - I can hand in results.”

Everyone became quiet. Lenora saw every mind revolving like fidget spinners.

“Even if,” said Dr. Pastor, “we had results for a potent vaccine test trials still need to be conducted and that does not include human trials.”

“Yes,” agreed the CDC Director, “however, I can contact the FDA Director and get his assistance in a special Modernization Act to bypass normal testing procedures and head straight into human trials.”

“We can?” Thomas asked.

“Dr. Finland, the times have changed. Our President needs to ensure his citizens’ health, this evacuation is separating families, and people are dying.”

Lenora’s entire body tensed up.

“If you can, Director.” Thomas spoke up. “I have a patient in my care who I believe would like to take this opportunity.”

Lenora’s palm started to sweat squeezing the opal so hard. This is happening.

“Then I’ll get in touch, in fact,” the CDC Director pulled out his cellphone, “if all goes accordingly, we can commence with a human trial as early as three this afternoon. Only are you sure about his patient, Dr. Finland?”

Lenora met Thomas’ eyes: Christmas hope.

“I trust Dr. Lasker.” He commented.

****

Lenora paced her office. The droning zipping sound of her opal against the chain of her necklace reverberated around the room.

Right now, Thomas was administrating the vaccine.

She calculated every aspect of the situation.

Thirdly, there’s no vaccine. But the present blood sample over the past six months resulted in no escalation or deescalation. It remained stagnated. Either way, it posed no harm, right?

Secondly, she altered data components for reasonable output in assessment. This should align with her . . . findings.

And first and foremost, they weren’t going to be just findings but true because all she needed was time. Six months of allocated time to report an improved vaccine. A cure.

They’ll see. Thomas will see, the hope in his eyes just for her.

The echoed buzzing stopped. Nobody can do this better than she can.

Code Blue. Biohazard Isolation Room. The intercom announced. Code Blue. Biohazard Isolation Room.

“NO!” Lenora exclaimed as she yanked her office door open and fled down the hall. Nothing should go wrong. It can’t go wrong. The contamination room couldn’t be entered without personal protective equipment. Lenora went into the glass-walled viewing area, for it provided a one floor higher observation of the patients. A crowd of medical staff surrounded the window.

Lenora pushed through until she saw Thomas’ patient, Brian, Brenda’s brother, flopping and thrashing on the hospital bed.

Chapter 4

“Brian Gomez is dead,” said the CDC Director. “His sister is-is devastated with grief. Reports indicate the vaccine increased dysfunction in the lungs which already were weak because of the virus. Despite, the documented trial protocols classifying this tragedy as a Serious Adverse Event we must understand what happened?”

They had returned to the chief’s office.

Lenora’s heart drilled a force against her ribcage. She dared not to look at Thomas.

“Lenora.” Dr. Pastor said her name with careful precision. “We need an explanation. This is the first death that the vaccine has caused. You ensured us the vaccine works.”

“There is -,” Thomas’ voice broke; he heaved a sigh, “there is documented data – “

“We need to know what happened.” The CDC Director pressured.

“I-I . . .” There were no explanations. Lenora’s face flushed; her chest swelled. The air in the room changed for Lenora, it became pressurized pushing outward on her eardrums which muffled her confession that reliout of her mouth.

“You did what!” cried the CDC Director

“Wait a minute! There is no vaccine?” Dr. Pastor asked flabbergasted.

Lenora didn’t hear Thomas but doubted she could. Her own heartbeat pumped in her ears. And for a brief second, she caught a reflection in the window, a space between the CDC Director and Dr. Pastor, a reflection of her mother. It was over.

Lenora explained everything: the discovery of the stagnate cells within the blood samples, and her falsifying data.

“Oh, my God.” Dr. Pastor moved over to the window.

“Lenora, how could you do this?” Thomas stared at her and then turned his back to her.

Lenora’s brimmed over with tears. “I just needed some time. I just needed some time.” She choked down a sob. “Nobody can do this better than I can. My mother – ”

“She’d never break the most sacred rule of all doctors,” interjected the CDC Director. “We, first do no harm, and more than harm has occurred.”

“She-she, Lenora, would never . . .,” said Dr. Pastor. “I know you, girl.” He inched toward his office phone.

“I thought I did, too.” Thomas’ eyes conveyed loss. There was no Christmas. There was no hope.

“I just needed more time.” Lenora mumbled.

The door of the chief office opened, and a security guard walked in.

“Considering the litany of crimes, I’m afraid I have no choice, but have you detained, Dr. Lasker,” said Dr. Pastor his head down.

Lenora was escorted from the room, and all anyone heard was the droning zipping sound of her opal gem being dragged back and forth on her chain necklace.

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