For almost a full minute the two women stared at each other over the table. This was too much of a coincidence to be believed.

With her epidemiologic training, Marissa was instantly suspicious. The parallels in their cases were extraordinary. And the only time their lives intersected was during medical school.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Wendy asked.

“Probably,” Marissa said. “I’m wondering about those months we spent on that elective rotation at Bellevue. Remember those TB cases we saw, especially the drug-resistant ones? Remember they were thinking that there was an upswing in TB?”

“How could I forget?”

“Luckily my chest X-ray is perfectly clear,” Marissa said.

“So’s mine,” Wendy said.

“I wonder if we are isolated cases or part of a bigger pattern. TB salpingitis is supposed to be rare, especially in a healthy nation like the United States.” She shook her head. It didn’t make sense.

“Why don’t we go back to the Resolve meeting and ask if there is anybody else with the same diagnosis?” Wendy suggested.

“Are you serious? The chances are so small, they’d be negligible.”

“I’m still curious,” Wendy said. “Come on, it’s close and we have a captive audience.”

As they walked back toward Acorn Street, Marissa broached the subject of her marital situation. It was hard for her to talk about it, but she felt the need to discuss it with someone. She told Wendy that she and Robert were having serious problems.

“He’s taken to sleeping in the guest room,” Marissa confided. “And he refuses to see a therapist. He says he doesn’t need someone to tell him why he’s unhappy.”

“A lot of us infertiles have marriage problems,” Wendy said. “Especially those of us in in-vitro. It seems to go with the territory. Of course everybody deals with it differently. My husband, Gustave, has just transferred what little attention he used to give me to his work. He’s always at the hospital. I practically never see him.”

“Robert’s doing that more and more,” Marissa said. “Unless one of these embryos implants, I’m not all that optimistic we’ll be able to weather the storm.”

“You’ve come back!” Susan cried when she opened the door for Marissa and Wendy. “Just in time for dessert.”

Wendy told Susan what they wanted to do. Susan took their coats, then preceded them into the living room, where guests were busily conversing in small groups as they ate chocolate cake.

“Can I have everyone’s attention for one last time,” Susan called out. She explained that Wendy had some questions for them.

Positioning herself in the middle of the room, Wendy introduced herself in case there was anyone who wasn’t aware that she was a doctor. She then asked how many of the women present had blocked fallopian tubes as the cause of their infertility.

Three people raised their hands.

Looking at these three women, Wendy asked: “Have any of you been told that your tubes were sealed by tuberculosis or what looked like TB under the microscope?”