"I'm on my way, Dr. Turner. I will see you both soon."
"Thank you, Sister. I am going to see if Shelagh might eat something before you get here."
"Alright, Dr. Turner. Goodbye."
As Patrick put down the phone, he felt Shelagh take his arm and rest her head against it.
"How about some breakfast before Sister Julienne gets here." He asked Shelagh quietly
"Okay," she whispered after a moment.
"What would you like for breakfast? How about some toast with jam?"
"okay"
"I'll walk you to the settee, and then I'll make us both some toast and tea for breakfast."
By a strange miracle, Patrick managed not to burn the toast, and keep the tea warm as he brought them over to the settee.
"Here you are, Shelagh, eat up."
"Okay"
Patrick watched as Shelagh slowly ate her toast with jam, stopping between every few bites for a sip or two of tea. Although it looked like it was the most challenging task in the world for Shelagh to complete, Patrick couldn't help the pride he had in his wife for making an effort to eat and make progress to getting back on track.
"How do you feel today? How are your toast and tea sitting?" Patrick asked as Shelagh finished her tea.
"I feel okay; I suppose they're sitting alright," Shelagh responded.
"Shelagh, I'm going to pick up your medication today. Are you ready to start it?"
"I suppose."
"I promise Shelagh; I am here for you. No matter how rough it becomes before you feel well again."
"I love you, Patrick," was Shelagh's only response before moving across the settee to allow Patrick to hold her.
They remained this way until a knock at the door pulled Patrick from the settee.
"Hello, Sister," Patrick greeted Sister Julienne cheerfully.
"Greetings, Dr. Turner. How did breakfast go for Shelagh, was she able to stomach anything?" Sister Julienne responded.
"She at two pieces of toast with jam, and drank a cup of tea. Shelagh says they are sitting well, but she seems a bit withdrawn and nervous still."
"Does Shelagh know that you're going to pick up her medication, or is she aware that the doctor even recommended this?"
"She knows that I'm going to get this medication and that the doctors have recommended it as part of her treatment, but I'm not certain that she understands what the medication is."
"Oh? What medication is it? Has Shelagh taken it before?"
"It's called Isoniazid; it is one of the pieces to the Triple Treatment.." Patrick Trailed it off as realization crossed Sister Julienne's face.
"She took It in the Sanitorium in 1958."
"Yes, Sister, do you know if she reacted to any of the medications that she took during her stay? I'm concerned that Shelagh isn't able to think well enough to convey whether she did or didn't."
"I remember that phase one when they started the first medication that was particularly rough for her because of how sick it made her, but I don't remember the second and third medication phases causing her too much trouble."
"They did phases to introduce the medications?"
"Yes, They wanted to start slowly adding one medication a day, but they had to slow down the process until they knew for sure that she was ready for the next drug. They wanted to know which medications caused the side effects that she was encountering. They managed to get all of the medicines introduced within the first week she was at the Sanatorium, and she still responded remarkably well to the treatment."
"That's good to know, Sister. I should get going now if I'm to get Shelagh's medication before the masses."
With that, Patrick led Sister Julienne to the sitting room and knelt in front of Shelagh.
"I'm just going to pop over to the chemist for your medication, alright. I'll leave you with Sister Julienne now. I love you, Shelagh, my brave, strong girl. I'll see you soon," he concluded before gently kissing her ring, as he had several years prior when he had proposed.
As the green MG passed through the foggy streets of London's East End, Patrick could not help but wonder if he was making the right decision to put his wife on a medication that was starting to be known for the opposite of what Shelagh needed it to do. As Patrick pulled up to the chemist, he was grateful that there were no other cars nearby, and seemingly no one in the chemist was waiting on medications.
"Ah, good morning Doctor Turner. How can I help you?" Theodore Taylor asked as Patrick entered the shop.
"I'm here to pick up a prescription for my wife, Theodore."
"Ah yes, Remind me of her name again, Patrick. She comes in here quite frequently to get the insulin for the district rounds, but I'm afraid I can't remember her first name."
"It's alright, Theodore; I'm not sure I've ever properly introduced her to you. Her first name is Shelagh, do you need the spelling?"
"Scottish spelling or English spelling, Patrick?"
"Scottish."
"Ah, yes. Here it is, Patrick. Let's get you rung up."
"Thank you, Theodore."
"Patrick, you are aware that there have been reports of this medication, making depression worse?"
"I've heard, how much worse has the depression gotten?"
"It varies, but I've heard that a handful that wasn't too severe ended up admitted to the Linchmere, but others with more severe cases have needed referrals to psychologists and to stop taking the medication."
"Any suicides?"
"No, not yet- but I have a feeling that if they don't look into this, we'll start hearing of them."
"Thank you, Theodore. I'd better get back to Shelagh now."
"Best wishes to you, both Doctor Turner."
It wasn't often that Patrick Turner felt the immense need to rush home to his wife to overcome every one of his senses, but today it did. As the MG pierced through the ever-thickening fog, Patrick felt his need to be with his wife and be her rock to overcome this season of life growing.