Elena's standing slightly back watching Damon. She can't help the smile that tugs at her lips as she gazes at him. Strands of gray are becoming more noticeable at his temples and along the sides and still, he is still the most devastatingly handsome man she's ever seen.
They're at an epidemiological conference where he's the keynote speaker about the Hantavirus outbreak of 1993. Damon's presentation tells the story and how modern techniques along with the ancient wisdom of the Navajo Medicine Men worked together to identify the strain of virus responsible for several deaths.
"Several members of the investigating team had extensive international infectious disease experience and knowledge of epidemiology. The illness was known to be caused by different types of hantavirus and to be transmitted to humans by inhalation of virus particles shed in rodent droppings.
The mouse has always been an important creature to the Navajo. It figures in the creation story, in which the revered rodent spreads the seeds of life throughout the world. The mouse is also dreaded as a killer of young Navajos and as a carrier of disease. According to legend, when a mouse enters a Navajo dwelling, called a hogan, and sees food lying about, he gets angry at the waste or the sloppiness. As punishment, he chooses the "strongest and finest" young Navajos to die." Damon pauses to clear his throat.
"At the time, in the Western Hemisphere, hantaviruses were recognized as infecting only rodents, and no case of human disease had been described. The new virus proved difficult to culture, and it was not until November 1993 that teams from the CDC and the US Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases were able to culture the virus. The initial recommendation was to name the pathogen Muerto Canyon virus, after an involved area on the Navajo Reservation. Justifiably so, the Navajo people reacted strongly against any further association with the disease that had led to so much initial prejudice, and tribal elders appealed to officials to reconsider. The agency listened and ultimately the new agent was officially named Sin Nombre virus or virus with no name.
Thank you for inviting me to take part in this conference. I will say the one good thing to come out of the 1993 outbreak is that I met my wife, Dr. Elena Gilbert-Salvatore," Damon states and holds out his hand for Elena, giving hers a squeeze.
The audience applauds as Damon and Elena leave the podium.
"I thought you were a conceited ass," Elena states, "When you showed up in Gallup...the way you seemed to treat people with that arrogance."
"I know. You told me," Damon laughs, winking at her.
She runs her fingers through her hair, "And now we've been together almost thirty years."
Damon sighs, shrugging his shoulders. "There was just something about you...I admired that you didn't take any of my bullshit."
Elena lets a soft smile cross her lips as she reaches out to cover his hand with hers, their fingers interlacing.
"You still consume me," she whispers, and their gazes instantly lock. "These last 29 years have brought passion...adventure...danger," she whispers each word in between kisses, and feels Damon smile against her lips in response.
"Did you find everything you were looking for?"
"Yeah," Elena closes her eyes in pleasure as his lips graze her neck, "I did...and more."
She brings his mouth back up to meet hers, and squeals when he suddenly sweeps her up in his arms and carries her to their bedroom before lowering her gently onto the bed.
Elena wraps her hand around his wrist and pulls him to her.
Damon places a light kiss on her lips as he settles his weight on her. "I love you, Elena."
"You're are everything I never knew I needed until you came into my life. I love you, too, Da..." she grunts when he slides into her...
Damon stares out the open window. The curtains hover in waves with the warm breeze brushing over their entwined bodies. Elena has fallen asleep with her fingers splayed across his chest. They twitch every now and then in time with her increasingly deep lulls of breath.
Her thigh is still draped heavily over his leg. He's still running the pad of his thumb up and down the length of her back even though she has long since succumbed to sleep.
He tears his eyes from the lazy dance of gauzy curtains to settle on her beautiful body. His thumb stills mid-back as he thinks back over their years together. Thousands of miles of travel, fierce fights, and even fiercer make-ups. A set of twins, three others, their last one being an oops. Of course, Elena would whack him hard, deservedly so if she heard him refer to their daughter, Nina as an oops.
Elena stirs, tilting her pelvis a touch outward so that her lower back arches and brings his attention to her shapely bare bottom. It takes everything in him not to give her a little pinch and start round two. But with their grandson coming tomorrow for a week while their son and daughter-in-law go to Barbados, he opts to pull her closer and roam his eyes over her.
She's still the prettiest girl he's ever seen, and she's his...
In May 1993, an outbreak of an unexplained pulmonary illness occurred in the southwestern United States, in an area shared by Arizona, New Mexico, Colorado, and Utah known as "The Four Corners".
Persons who became ill were generally young and previously healthy before succumbing to an acute febrile illness that began with simple influenza-like symptoms and often culminated in death by pulmonary edema and cardiovascular collapse. With astonishing speed and efficiency, a collaborative team of federal, state, and local healthcare workers, including clinicians, epidemiologists, and laboratory scientists, identified a newly discovered species of hantavirus as the causative agent of the outbreak.
Doctors reported that all of the Four Corners patients had mild flu-like symptoms such as malaise, headache, cough, and fever, with a sudden onset of pulmonary edema necessitating ventilators before eventually causing death. From April to May 1993, there were 24 reported cases in the region. Twelve of those people died, resulting in a 50% mortality rate. Of the 24 patients, 14 were Native Americans, nine were non-Hispanic whites and one was Hispanic.
In the ensuing years, epidemiology, virology, pathophysiology, clinical course, and treatment of hantavirus pulmonary syndrome have been the focus of ongoing research. Because of its rarity, and because of the need for early acute intervention in the face of precipitous decline, recognition of the unique laboratory profile of hantavirus pulmonary syndrome in the setting of a predisposing exposure history is of paramount importance.
Thank you all. It's always bittersweet to come to the end of a story.
Thank you, Eva, for everything.
I am working on something new; we'll see you when it's done.
Take care, and have a wonderful day.
