“She was just dehydrated…?”
Mitsuhiro sat next to Miyoko, staring blankly and repeating the doctor’s words.
It took nearly an hour to complete Sae’s exam, and during that time, the two of them had no choice but to wait, holding hands on a bench in the largely empty lobby.
“That’s right,” the doctor said, smiling reassuringly at the two of them. “Once the IV is finished up, you can go home. Just to be on the safe side, I’ll prescribe some medication to prevent throat spasms and coughing.”
“It’s not some kind of disease, then?” Miyoko asked, wanting to be sure.
“Well, the difficulty breathing caused by drinking water is one telltale sign of rabies, which would be really dangerous, but that’s clearly not the case here.”
“Rabies? Isn’t that serious?”
“It is, but rabies has been wholly eradicated from Japan since the 1950s. There’s no way she could have gotten that unless she was bitten by an unvaccinated animal outside of the country, so please don’t worry about that at all. Something probably caused her airway to narrow so that she couldn’t breathe for a while, but it fixed itself without any treatment.”
Sure enough, within a few minutes of being transported, Sae stopped scratching at her throat, and her breathing returned to normal. It was as if the farther she was from home, the more she recovered. Mitsuhiro thought it was because of the oxygen mask they put on her, but the doctor said she had recovered naturally.
“Why would something like this happen?” Mitsuhiro asked.
The doctor smiled, albeit somewhat awkwardly. “Sometimes, people experience sudden tightness and difficulty breathing due to a cold, sleep apnea, or irritation following an endoscopy. It’s a spasm of the pharynx that makes it harder to breathe, but it returns to normal in just a few minutes at most.”
“You don’t think it’s asthma?” Miyoko countered.
The doctor confidently returned her gaze. “Well, asthma-related breathing difficulties are caused by the bronchial tubes becoming inflamed and sensitive, which makes them prone to blockage. We could perform a bronchoscopy at a later date, but…”
“Are there any other tests you can do? Because I’d really like to know if…you know, there’s something hidden beneath the surface here, like rabies…”
“There’s no way to test for rabies before symptoms present, unfortunately.”
“But there’s nothing else you could test for?”
The doctor hesitated, judging whether to call it pointless, but then bowed to Miyoko’s wishes and ordered a test of Sae’s blood and saliva, just to be sure. A bronchoscopy would require fasting for several hours and anesthesia, and other further examinations, such as spinal-fluid or corneal tests, would cause considerable pain to the patient, so the doctor strongly advised against rushing into anything. That seemed to be enough for Miyoko.
“It’s been very hot this year, too. Be careful not to let her get dehydrated or heat stroke. Make sure she stays cool and drinks plenty of fluids.”
This was the doctor’s gentle way of reminding them not to be negligent, Mitsuhiro supposed.
After leaving the examination room, Mitsuhiro went to the night window at the pharmacy outside the hospital and picked up the prescribed medication. When he returned, Miyoko was sitting in a chair next to Sae, who was sleeping with the IV still in her arm. She was leaning against the wall with her hands wrapped around her large belly and her eyes closed.
Mitsuhiro sat down next to her, careful not to wake anyone up, and gazed at Sae as she slept, breathing softly. As he waited for the prescription to be filled, he used his phone to search for the assorted diseases that could cause breathing difficulties. Among them was rabies, also known as hydrophobia, because the stimulus of drinking water caused the throat to close up in patients, eventually leading to a fear of all fluids.
—That’s no joke. I could never let Sae get that.
Mitsuhiro felt relieved seeing his daughter sleeping peacefully. In her life so far, Sae had received more than ten different vaccines, including the BCG vaccine for tuberculosis. They had gone overseas for vacations a few times, and he always made sure Sae was current on her vaccinations beforehand.
But that really wasn’t the issue. He closed his eyes next to Miyoko, finally starting to admit it to himself. He was tired of straining every fiber of his being in the effort to deny it. He tried to recall how Sae had behaved after dinner. There was no reason for her to be dehydrated today. She’d had a drink of water after her bath, and the air conditioner in her room was humming along as usual.
No, it started when he saw those first footprints outside the elevator. Something was slowly progressing, and it wasn’t good. At first, it was just this small thing that had followed him into his home. Now it was like a torrent rushing in.
“Don’t worry.”
In his half-dreaming state, he remembered someone saying that to him.
“Tamai will give you a charm, so don’t you worry.”
A woman with dementia had told him that. Megumi Hara, the wife of Yoshikazu Hara.
“The two of them are always bothered by that smell.”
That’s exactly what she told him.
“‘Smells like burning bones,’ they said.”
Suddenly, he sensed someone approaching. He startled himself awake.
Mitsuhiro watched, stifling a yawn, as the nurse checked that the IV was fully administered. She skillfully removed the needle from Sae’s arm.
“All right,” she said kindly, “you’re free to go home now.”
Mitsuhiro was grateful that Sae didn’t need to be fully admitted. The thought of going to work after spending the whole night sitting next to his daughter was enough to make him feel dizzy.
Mitsuhiro called for a taxi on his phone, woke up Miyoko, picked up his sleeping daughter, and left the hospital through the night entrance. The taxi arrived in short order. He put Miyoko in first, then followed with Sae in his arms.