Silent Pledge. Hannah Alexander

I’ll get the preliminaries over and talk to her when she comes back.” Mercy pulled the stethoscope from around her neck and warmed the instrument in her palm for a few seconds. “How have you been feeling this morning?”

      “I feel better, Dr. Mercy.” Crystal took a deep breath and exhaled to demonstrate. She didn’t cough. Her face was back to its normal pale color.

      “Good.” Mercy glanced at the empty food trays. “Did you eat all your own food?”

      “Yes, and some of Gramma’s.”

      Mercy smiled. That would have been a loving sacrifice for Odira. “Then I see your appetite is back to normal.” She checked the nurse report on the clipboard at the end of the bed. Crystal had been given another breathing treatment this morning, her coughing had slowed considerably, and her temperature was 99.4.

      Mercy was just finishing with Crystal when Odira came in huffing, her face damp with perspiration, clumps of gray-brown hair clinging to her forehead. “Hi, Dr. Mercy! I was just tellin’ Crystal you’d probably be here anytime.” Her voice, as always, was strong, but her breathing was louder and more labored than usual. Her face was flushed, and she moved more slowly. “I think she’s feelin’ better today, don’t you?” Odira patted her great-granddaughter on the arm and leaned down to kiss her forehead. “I always did say, in spite of it all, she’s a fast healer. How’s those lungs sound to you this morning?”

      “Much better.” Mercy replaced the clipboard and adjusted Crystal’s blanket.

      “Think we’ll get to go home today?” Odira picked up the open storybook and lowered herself slowly onto the hospital bed beside Crystal’s.

      Mercy watched the woman’s movements in silence for a moment. Twice last night, while Mercy had been giving Crystal her treatments in the clinic, Odira had quietly pressed her hand against her chest and winced. Her face was puffy, and her feet bulged out over the tops of her loafers.

      And Crystal—observant child that she was—watched with worried eyes. Something was going on here.

      “I’d like to keep you here at least another night,” Mercy said, patting Crystal’s arm.

      Odira’s expression drooped. “Oh.” She huffed a couple more times. “Can’t tell you how much I appreciate you, Dr. Mercy, but you know how dangerous it is for Crystal to be in here with all the germs floating around. I’ve been told hospitals are the worst place to pick up pneumonia. She picks up any little bug so easy, what with her cystic fibrosis.”

      Mercy nodded. “I’m sorry. I understand your concern. Our staff is always careful to prevent the spread of germs, but where you have illness, you will have contagion. It may help you to know that our hospital is well below the national average for hospital-acquired illnesses.” She stepped over to Odira’s bed, pulling a small bottle out of her lab coat. “Here, I brought this for you.” She handed the plastic container to Odira. “It’s hand purifier. I want you and Crystal both to rub it on your hands several times a day while you’re here, and then when Crystal goes back to school I want her to take it with her and use it. There are also dispensers on the hallway walls.”

      She watched Odira open the bottle and pour a little glob into her hands, then reach over and give some to Crystal.

      That simple act could be a potential lifesaver for someone with CF. People didn’t realize how dangerous a cold could be to this child. Even Mercy had to remember, when Crystal came to see her at the office, not to take the chance of spreading germs that might linger on her clothing from other patients. She always put on a fresh lab coat when Crystal came in because the little girl needed a loving touch.