“Tom,” the patient croaked over the hissing of the humidified oxygen that misted around his face, as if he was breathing outside on a cold winter’s morning. “This is my wife—” he began to say but a coughing spasm cut off the words.

“Annie,” the woman said with a forced smile and rose to shake hands.

Kilburn waved her back down. He rested a hand on the bed railing. “Listen, I know both of you have probably told Tom’s story so far to seven hundred different people, from nursing aide students to the dean of medicine.”

Mallek laughed weakly. “Maybe only four hundred,” he said.

“Nature of the beast in a teaching hospital, I’m afraid,” Kilburn said with an apologetic shrug. “I’ve read your chart, but I’d still like to hear in your own words how you ended up here.”

“Four or five days ago …” Mallek puffed, “I began … to come down with … a sore throat … and then the cough …”

Seeing the deeper indrawings in the patient’s chest wall, Kilburn laid a hand on his shoulder to interrupt. “Listen, why don’t you let your wife tell me? You can cut in anytime she screws up.”

Mallek nodded gratefully.

“Ten days ago Tom twisted his knee while running. Torn ligaments.” Annie shook his head at her husband. “I told you it was a bad idea to run those kinds of distances in the dark.”

“Annie …” Mallek puffed.

Annie rubbed her eyes. “Sorry, one sentence and I’ve already screwed up.” She laughed self-consciously. “Tom was instructed to keep his leg up. It’s not like him to stay still for a moment—busy lawyer and even busier dad, coaching two of our boys in hockey—but he actually took the doctor’s advice and stayed off his leg for the first few days.” She sighed. “Then he began to complain about a sore throat—”

“When?” Kilburn asked.

“Five days ago,” she said. “The next morning he woke up burning with fever. Stayed in bed most of that day. He insisted he would be fine with a bit of rest, but the day after he looked even worse. He had trouble getting out of bed. And coughing! He was bringing up this awful green junk.” She glanced at Kilburn desperately. “Dr. Kilburn, in eighteen years together, I’ve never seen Tom with so much as a head cold. He’s the one who takes care of the rest of the family.”

“That’s me. Nurse Tom.” Mallek squeezed her hand, but his attempt at humor sent him into a violent coughing spell that shook the bed and left him gasping.

“It’s okay, Tom.” Annie dabbed at his brow with the moist cloth in her free hand. Soon her husband’s breathing settled back to its quieter but labored pattern.

“So you brought him to the emergency room?” Kilburn asked.