“I'm sorry,” I say, “but I am a very busy man right now. Your wife will have to retrieve the nitre when she returns.”\n\n“Please, Doc. I don't know where she's gone to. She might be gone for hours for all I know. She's always runnin' over to a neighbor's and complainin' about that rotting coffee. Didn't ya come over here to help me out?”\n\n[[I guess I should fetch the nitre...|fetch_nitre]]\n[[I am not this man's servant!|refuse_nitre]]
It is not a physician's place to antagonize his patient, and I can see that my inquiries into Mr. Berry's appearance have agitated him quite a bit. \n\nI attempt to change the subject by asking Mr. Berry if I might take his pulse. He consents to this, and I find his pulse to be full and quick. This, combined with his earlier faint, makes me think that his system would benefit from a gentle bleeding.\n\n<html> <div class = "image"> <img id="venesection" src="/images/issues/2/2/fever/venesection.png" /> <p class = "caption">Mr. Berry will benefit from a gentle bleeding.</p> </div> </html>\n\nI retrieve a lance from my bag and take several ounces of blood from Mr. Berry's arm. Although he is a bit squeamish during the letting itself, he seems to be much relieved by its effects. \n\nI instruct Mr. Brewster to keep the man from any excitement. I suspect that all this talk of fevers has simply made him overwrought. \n\n<<display 'fearnot2'>>
My wife always says that I must not let my curiosity get the better of me, but I must see what this woman is about. I ask the driver to stop a moment and jump out of the carriage.\n\n“Do you know this man?” I ask the struggling woman.\n\n“Not really,” she replies, lifting the man's arm over her shoulder.\n\n“The just what are you doing here?” I ask her.\n\n“Don't reckon it's any business of yours. You want to help me, then I'll tell you the whole story. Otherwise leave me be. You and your carriage have drawn enough attention to things as it is.”\n\nI must disagree about this being none of my business. I am a citizen of this community and I will not abide by thievery and villainy taking place right under my nose! My instincts tell me that I should [[restrain the woman immediately and summon a watchman|watchman]]. Yet, her brazenness amazes me. Why would she ask me to help her if she were truly up to no good? Maybe I should [[hear her out|apologize]].\n\n
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The woman takes me to a building just off Mulberry street. The apartment we enter is rather a nice home, nicer than I had expected given the woman's markedly slovenly appearance.\n\n“Please, sir. He's my only child. My husband refused a doctor when he fell ill last week and the fever carried him off just yesterday. I cannot bear to lose my son now, too. You can save him, can't you? Please, you must save him.”\n\nShe takes me to the child's bed. The boy's yellowed face and gaunt expression do not give me much hope. I take his pulse, hoping to find some reason to believe that he might recover. Sadly, his pulse is slow and weak.\n\nI moisten his lips with water but he makes no effort to drink. In fact, he seems hardly aware of my presence. I know it will grieve the mother deeply, but I am certain her son does not have long to live.\n<<set $paths[15] = 'true'>>\n[[Tell her there is nothing I can do.|murdered_2]] \n[[Give her false hope.|murdered_3]]
As tempting as it is to relent, I trust in Dr. Rush's judgment. Although the dose of these purgatives seems alarming, he must have reason for assigning them as such. If Sarah is to have any chance of survival, I must act with decisiveness. Any weakness on my part now could easily spell her doom.\n\nI shall apply Dr. Rush's cure with diligence and [[hope for her recovery|choke_2]].\n<<set $rushremedy="true">>\n
I see how dangerously upset the woman is. I cannot bear to break her heart further with the grim news that I can do nothing to improve the condition of her son, and that the boy is likely to die the same horrible death as his father.\n\nI tell the woman that I shall bleed the boy, as many patients find a bleeding to be a comfort.\n\nI do my best and tell the woman I shall send someone to check on her and the boy tomorrow. But the woman refuses to let me leave.\n\n“You must stay,” she says. “What if he needs you? You must stay and watch over him. He's so weak now. You cannot leave him.”\n\nThe woman paws at my coat with a look of wild desperation in her eyes. There is nothing more I can do here. I must leave now.\n\nI grab my bag and let myself out of the apartment door. Halfway down the stairs, I hear a creak at the top of the landing. The woman is following me. Why can she not understand that there is nothing more I can do? And why does she have a most peculiar grin on her face? Is it possible that the grief is too much for her?\n\n[[Attempt to console her again.|murdered_4]]\n[[Back away slowly.|murdered_4]]
I tell her as gently as possible that the boy is not long for this world, but the strange look on her face tells me that my words are having little effect.\n\nI get up from the bedside and begin to leave the room, but the woman blocks me, dropping to he knees and tugging at my coat.\n\n“You have to save him,” she pleads. But there is nothing further I can do. I hate to leave this poor soul in such a wretched state, but I cannot stay to console her. \n\n“The boy is in God's hands now,” I tell her. \n\nSuddenly, she lets me go without any further difficulty. I can only pray that she find some respite to her pain in the coming days.\n\nI grab my bag and let myself out of the apartment door. Halfway down the stairs, I hear a creak at the top of the landing. The woman stands at the top of the stairwell with a most peculiar expression on her face.\n\n[[Ask her what she wants.|murdered_4]]\n[[Back away slowly.|murdered_4]]
I am worried that my wife has been looking less than her usually rosy self lately. It could be mere coincidence, but so many have been carried off by this fever in just this month alone that it is impossible not to worry. And fear seems to be the order of the day—neighbors who have not already departed the city in fear are now shutting themselves up inside their homes, refusing to see, or even to speak to those around them.\n\nBut there as been some upside to this fear in that it has inspired a call to collective action from many of our city's best and brightest physicians, government officials, clergy, philanthropists, and other good citizens. I understand they have opened a new hospital at the Bush Hill estate where patients of the fever are being treated. I should like to know more about this hospital and what methods they are using to fight the terrible scourge.\n\nAnd yet, as much as I would like to tour the hospital, I worry that I should not neglect Sarah's health. \n\n[[Insist on examining Sarah.|wifeill_1]]\n[[Learn about the treatments at Bush Hill.|pre-bushhill]]
Before I can even move, the woman speaks. Her voice is rough and dissonant. Her words echo in the hallway.\n\n“Why won't you save my child?” \n\nI don't know what to say to her.\n\n“WHY WON'T YOU SAVE MY CHILD?!?”\n\nThis time, she does not wait for a response. She flies down the stairs in a single leap, a crooked kitchen knife clenched in her right fist.\n\nMy breath is taken away as the knife sharply penetrates my left flank. Both she and I are off balance and tumble to the floor. I feel several more sharp pains in my chest, as she plunges the knife into me again and again. Oddly, the pain seem to diminish with each additional thrust. She must be growing tired. I, too, am suddenly growing quite tired....\n\n[[Sleep|murdereddeath]]
<<set $paths[7]="true">><<set $track=4>><<set $wife="dead">>\s\n“Sarah, your unflagging optimism is a breath of fresh air! Still, my dear, you would be hopeless as a physician. I tell you that it is dangerous to ignore your symptoms, mild though they may be now. We need to start treatment immediately!”\n\nI send my son John, Jr. to go retrieve some of the purgative pills that Dr. Rush has advertised especially for treatment of this disease. I understand that they contain a combination of calomel and jalap, which is guaranteed to elicit frequent evacuations.\n\nIn the meantime, I tell my wife to take to bed. I perform a bleeding. I am committed to sitting by her bedside until she is well.\n\nJohn, Jr. returns with the pills for Sarah. The dose of these purgatives seems frighteningly high to me. Can Dr. Rush really be certain this is necessary?\n\n[[Be steadfast in following Dr. Rush's treatment.|wifeill_5]]\n[[Relent. The treatment is worse than the disease!|wifeill6]]
I am not usually in the habit of refusing help when called, but there's something about the boy's sulking nature that doesn't entirely agree with me. The little rogue ought to be in a workhouse or reformatory, not roaming the streets making trouble for busy, upstanding citizens like myself. Despite the scamp's pleading look, I send him on his way.\n<<set $shutup = $shutup + 1>><<if $shutup gte 2>><<set $badges[5] = 'true'>><<popup 5>><<save>><<endif>>\n<<display 'patients'>>
<<if $badinvestigator eq "true">>It was with great shock and dismay that I learned of the death of both the Brewsters' maid and the clerk within days after I attended the house. In addition, a second housemaid was carried off, along with Mr. Brewster's mother and youngest daughter. All were lost in little over one week's time.\n\nI cannot help but wonder if there was anything I could have done to stop this tragedy, but it seems the entire city has be rendered helpless before this disease. Rush's proposed remedy provides a faint beacon of light, but it seems likely that this storm will worsen before it improves.<<else>>Unfortunately, my attempts to aid the Brewsters were largely futile. Both the Brewsters' maid and the clerk died within days after I attended the house. My one consolation is that the disease did not spread further within the household, but there is no saying if that was the result of my medical interventions or of God's mercy.\n<<endif>>\n<<if $vomit eq "true">>Making matters worse, despite my intention of burning my dirty laundry from the Brewsters, Sarah got to my clothing first and washed my vomit-encrusted shirt with her own bare hands. Perhaps nothing will come of it, but I cannot yet forgive myself for my carelessness...\n<<endif>>\n<<display 'wifeill_0'>>
----\n<<set $ending[13] = 'true'>><<set $currentEnd=13>>\nJohn, Jr. emerged from the house to find a city still in the throes of the lingering epidemic, but found that many hardy souls had remained in the city, doing their best to endure the chaos around them.\n\nThe boy was able to solicit the help of an older black woman, who, along with many other black residents of Philadelphia, had taken up the important task of nursing those in need. She immediately recognized the now all-too-familiar signs of yellow fever in the Brooks's home. \n\nAlthough there was little that could be done for John, Jr.'s father, mother, and little brother Matthew, John and his four-year-old sister Mary were safely removed from the disease-ridden house. They both survived the epidemic. \n\n\nTHE END.\n----\n<<set $paths[16]="true">>\n<<display 'ending tracker'>>
I shall have to try to find Dr. Rush some other time. At the moment, I really must fulfill my duties to my waiting patients.\n\nI begin walking south toward my first appointment, <<display 'strangeboy'>>
<<set $track = 5 >><<set $bushhillme ='true'>>\s\n<html> <div class = "image"> <img id="bushhill" src="/images/issues/2/2/fever/bushHill.png" /> <p class = "caption">The estate at Bush Hill.</p> </div> </html>\nBush Hill is a large manor estate northwest of the city that has been appropriated for the care of yellow fever victims. The temporary hospital was established at the start of the epidemic, but I have paid little attention to it until recently. My impression was that the management was haphazard at best and it was said that the hospital was struggling to keep up with the demands created by this odious plague. \n\nNow, however, it occurs to me that I might be able to learn something more about this fever by visiting the hospital and seeing what they have learned from treating so many cases. Assuming, that is, that the hospital is anything more than a mass grave. I hail a carriage and set out to the manor.\n\n<html><div class = "image"><img src="/images/issues/2/2/fever/ellipsis.png" /></div></html>\nUpon my arrival at the makeshift hospital, I am impressed by the orderliness of things. I feared the hospital would be grossly understaffed, as each day that the cloud of sickness hovers over our city makes nurses harder and harder to find. But I am pleased to see that the hospital is quite respectable indeed.\n\nManagement of the hospital has been recently taken over by two local merchants, Stephen Girard and Peter Helm. Neither is a physician, and yet by taking charge of the city's sick and destitute, they demonstrate their bravery and compassion at a time when many physicians are refusing to perform their sworn duties. \n\nI ask how they are treating these fever victims. Mr. Girard is a busy man, but he spares a few moments to show me around. I am surprised to find that at Bush Hill, they have chosen to ignore Dr. Rush's aggressive treatment and offer mostly clean environs and restorative care for the fever patients.\n\n“Does it really work?” I ask.\n\n“Of course, we lose patients every day,” Mr. Girard replies. “But many survive as well. I do not think anyone has the means right now to cure everyone. But we provide the best care possible.”\n\nHis words are humble, but I can see a fire in his eyes that tells me that he is as committed to fighting this fever as even the best physicians in this city.\n\nPerhaps I should [[volunteer my services|volunteer]] as a physician. After all, it looks like they will need all the able hands they can find. \n\nThen again, it would seem that the hospital is shaping up quite admirably without me. I might be more valuable [[serving those miserable wretches in the city|helpwretches]] who cannot make their way to Bush Hill.
I do not want to worry Sarah unnecessarily over this mysterious fever, especially when so little is known about it. I decide that it is best to simply feign ignorance of any danger and convince Sarah that I merely have her and the children's best interests at heart.\n\nPutting on a jovial face, I tell her that the children are looking wan these days. “Perhaps they could use a little sunlight and fresh farm air,” I suggest. “And besides, you haven't been to visit your parents in over a year. It would be good for all of you, especially since I anticipate being busy with work now that a great group of sick passengers on a recently arrived ship at the docks.”\n\nSarah gives me a strange look, but I think she finds my story convincing...\n\nSLAP!!\n\n“How dare you criticize my care of the children. They do not look pale and I do not know what has caused this beastly accusation of yours, but I'll not stand for it.”\n\nI—I had never expected Sarah to react in this manner. I must apologize and explain myself.\n\n“No, John, not one more word from you!” Sarah will not even let me try to explain. “Go [[attend to your patients|aftermath]] or something. But you leave this house now before I slap you again for your rude, impertinent meddling in my management of the children.”\n\nI guess there is no talking to her now.
“Sir, are you in the habit of dyeing fabrics for the shop?” I ask the clerk.\n\n“No, of course not. I am a shopkeeper, not a laborer,” is Mr. Berry's curt reply.\n\nI have obviously wounded the man's pride with my question. Hastily I respond, “I apologize for any offence, but your skin, along with that of the housemaid, appears to have a yellowish hue. Is there anything at the shop at all which might have produced this coloring on the two of you?”\n\nBoth the clerk and Mr. Brewster deny that there is any such substance on the premises that would color a man yellow. \n\nI do not like to [[leave such a mystery unsolved|unsolved]], but since neither gentleman seems to have even the faintest guess as to the cause, I am uncertain whether there is anything to be gained by [[investigating further|unusualskin2]].\n\n
<<set $paths[15] = 'true'>>\s\n<<if $track eq 8 && $sarahcrazy eq 'true'>>\s\n<<display 'crazysarah'>>\n<<else if $track eq 8>>\s\n<<display 'widower'>>\n<<else>>\s\n<<display 'hospitaldeath'>>\n<<endif>>
As much as the presence of a nearby bonfire irks me, I must get back to my children right away.\n\nI am anxious to get home. I force myself to walk as briskly as possible. \n\n<<display fire_end>>
badge0 = Met The Doctor (spoke to the great Dr. Benjamin Rush)\nbadge1 = Keen Investigator (push patients for the truth)\nbadge2 = Hey, Romeo! (get familiar with Prudence)\nbadge3 = Autopsy (dead bodies don't scare you)\nbadge4 = A Family Man (tried to keep your wife and kids out of harm's way)\nbadge5 = Grumpy Old Man (you have no time for whippersnappers)\nbadge6 = Prejudiced (Sent an innocent woman to rail)\nbadge7 = Snake Collector (start your own cabinet of curiousities)\nbadge8 = Last Words (left the world a note on your deathbed)\nbadge9 = No Escape (missed the chance to leave the city) \nbadge10 = The Guardian (took in the orphan boy)\nbadge11 = Tipler (you like to drink, but not too much)\nbadge12 = Dry Roast (savor that cuppa joe)\nbadge13 = Guardian Angel (saved all members of the Cook family)\nbadge14 = No Means No (keep your hands to yourself next time)\nbadge15 = Liar, Liar (making promises you can't keep)\nbadge16 = A True Scientist (engage in discourse with other physicians )\nbadge17 = Model Citizen (civic duties come first, always)\nbadge18 = Lifeguard on Duty (attempted artificial respiration)\n\nbadge19 = Sanitation Officer (corpses are bad, m'kay?)\n\n\n\nbadge15 = Widower (only your wife survived) ***May not exist!!\n\n\nbadge? = Callous (refusing aid to others)\nbadge? = Hypocrite (only help those you like)\nbadge? = Met Stephen Girard\nbadgeX = A Grieving Father? (for Matthew or JJ)\n
<<actions "Rest and hope for the best." "Send for a doctor." "Send for a minister." "Get my worldly affairs in order.">>
My efforts to get Sarah to Bush Hill came far too late. \nBefore we were even halfway there, she died, right there in that awful wagon, atop so many other nameless victims of this horrible scourge.\n\nWorse still, despite my strenuous objections, the driver would not allow me to remove her from the wagon after she had passed. He insisted on carting her body off with all the others, to be buried in haste and anonymity in a Potter's Field. Oh, the horror of knowing that she shall never have a proper grave! What kind of a husband could allow that to happen?\n\n<<display 'wife_dead_choice'>>
<<set $badges[7] = "true">><<popup 7>><<save>>\s\nAlthough I am loathe to return upstairs without the nitre, this wheezing, hissing piece of burlap has me concerned. I cannot retrieve the nitre without disturbing it, yet I am unwilling to pry any further into the contents of Mr. Mills's cellar without full knowledge of what I may find.\n\nTrudging up the stairs, I ask Mr. Mills about the mysterious floor covering.\n\n“Oh! Oh, of course! I forgot all about that. Yes, I keep several kinds of snakes in my cellar. Some wealthy curiosity collectors will pay a high price for taxidermied snakes, you know. So I find 'em, trap 'em, and then keep 'em in my cellar until I'm ready to eat 'em and stuff 'em. Hoo hoo, Doc, it was probably a good thing you didn't disurb 'em. Quite mean, some of 'em. I'll go ahead and have Felicity get the nitre later. Thank you for all your help, Doc.”\n\nCan he be serious? Were there really...? \n\n“Hey, Doc,” he continues, “if you'd like, go ahead and take that taxidermied snake by the door on your way out. Consider it a present for making a house call while this cursed yellow plague is floating about.”\n\nAlthough I have no use for such a terrible artifact, I can hardly think of a polite way to decline the proud man's generous offer of a stuffed snake. I thank him as politely as I can, grab the snake, and leave.\n\nI can only hope to receive fewer such unusual presents while attending the sick [[in the coming days|choke_2]].
I see no need to alarm Sarah by discussing the particulars of the fever, nor do I see the need to have to justify my decision. I gently but firmly restate my instructions.\n\n“Take the children and leave town. Do not return until I write granting you permission to do so.” I am trying to be gentle, but I can see my stern words are having a peculiar effect on Sarah.\n\n“Permission? Permission?!?” Sarah echoes the word back to me in a shrill voice that means only one thing: trouble.\n\n“John Brooks, unless you want a row, you had better reconsider your words to me. I won't stand for you barking orders at me like I'm a slave.”\n\nSwallowing hard, I quickly try to think of a way to extricate myself from this predicament. Sarah is usually quite mild-mannered, but when her temper is roused, she is not usually the first one to back down in a fight.\n\n[[“I just meant the children look like they could use a vacation...”|palekids]]\n[[“I didn't want to alarm you...”|tellher]]\n[[“I have my reasons...”|obeyme2]]
<<set $drink += 1>>\s\n<<if $drink gte 5>><<set $paths[6]="true">>\s\nMy face feels hot and my hands a bit tingly, but I think I can surely manage one more ale before I leave. After all, I am really having such a lovely time with these jolly fellows, I hate to spoil everyone's fun by leaving. \n\nI order another pint and throw it back with gusto. \n\nThis really is a fine ale! \n\nI think maybe I'll just order one more. But damn if I'm not having a difficult time staying upright in this vexingly wobbly chair. \n\n“Stay still, man! Can't you see I'm trying to sit here?” The chair seems to pay me no mind. What a rude, impertinent chair! \n\nOne of the sailors asks if I'm all right. I tell him about the chair.\n\n“I've half a mind to complain to the owner about allowing such an insolent, sassy chair in this establishment,” I tell him.\n\n“You do that,” he replies with a hearty laugh. “The stingy old codger is right down there, he says, pointing a wobbly finger at the end of the room. Tell him we don't need no rambunctious chairs intefering with our merrymaking!”\n\n“Indeed I shall!”\n\nI rise up out of the thoroughly disagreeable chair and make my way toward the owner, but now this mongrel chair has got a hold of my leg! I try to shake my leg loose, but to no effect. I am finally able to set myself free by pummeling the chair with my fist, but I can see it giving me the most discourteous looks as I make my way down to the end of the bar.\n\nI explain to the owner how disappointed I am in his establishment's choice of ill-mannered furniture. He laughs and tells me to sit down.\n\nClearly, I am not explaining the situation to him plainly enough, so I try again, speaking more loudly and using smaller words so that even this thickheaded buffoon can understand the situation. \n\nAh, now he seems to be taking an interest in my complaint. \n\n“Yes, do come over here and see just how impudent these chairs are!” I say. I should show him exactly what I mean. I'll just quickly pick up this chair and bring it to him. \n\n“Why even the dumbest, most half-witted brute can see the uselessness of these things,” I explain, brandishing the defective chair.\n\nI hear a loud CRACK! in my right ear and have the strangest sensation of falling. I'm not sure I...\n\n<<display "drunk_end">>\n\n<<else if $drink eq 2>>\s\nI order another pint so as not to seem too obvious in my eavesdropping. It is not the greatest ale I've ever had, but it goes down easily enough.\n\nTheir conversation thus far continues to be about the travails of life aboard a ship.\n\n[[Have another drink.|drunk]]\n[[I should leave.|patients]]\n<<else if $drink eq 3>>\s\nI edge a little closer to the sailors. The conversation seems to have shifted to the topic of women now. I try not to listen, as I am only here to learn about the fever. But I cannot help but overhear one of them recite the following bit of doggrel:\n\n//The Idalian Dame,\nOrdains it shall all sizes fit,\nProvided, that it first be wet;\nAnd, when put off to End of Time,\nShould smell of fish, and feel of slime.//\n\nAt this, they burst into racuous laughter. I turn away quickly so that they cannot see the look of shock on my face, but it seems I am discovered. One of them taps my shoulder and I turn to find them all staring at me now. \n\nI do not want to insult them, but perhaps I should no longer listen in on their conversation.\n\n[[Have another drink.|drunk]]\n[[I should leave.|patients]]\n<<else if $drink eq 4>>\s\nThe fellows seem to relax a bit as I order another drink. They regale me with stories of their lives on the high seas and, although I insist I'm a married man, they discuss some of the... attributes of various ladies they have known in Philadelphia.\n\nIt is quite nice to be invited into this fascinating conversation, but I have the strange feeling I'm forgetting something...\n\n[[Have another drink!|drunk]]\n[[I should leave.|patients]]\n<<endif>>
Sarah...?\n<<if $wife_promise="no">>\n<<timedgoto "pray5" 4s >>\n<<else>>\n<<timedgoto "pray4" 4s >>\n<<endif>>
end0 - a drunken demise\nend1 - backalley brutality\nend2 - fled the city\nend3 - attacked by snakes\nend4 - mugged and murdered\nend5 - carriages are dangerous\nend6 - a new life begins\nend7 - a grieving widow\nend8 - the sole survivor\nend9 - Sarah survives\nend10 - a happy ending\nend11 - look for a lawyer\nend12 - behind closed doors\nend13 - orphaned children\nend14 - a broken father\nend15 - a madwoman knows no mercy\nend16 - an unremarkable death\nend17 - complete devastation\nend18 - a watery grave\nend19 - a nursery made silent
----\n<<set $ending[4] = 'true'>><<set $currentEnd=4>>\nDr. Brooks closed his eyes for the last time on <<print $date>>. His valiant efforts to treat his fellow Philadelphians cannot be said to have been in vain, but they certainly cost him his life.\n\nIn the end, the chaos of a city ravaged by disease and abandoned by many of those with the resources to flee was ultimately Dr. Brooks's undoing.\n\n\nTHE END.\n----\n<<display 'ending tracker'>>
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<<set $paths[14]="true">>\s\nI am trying to resist the temptations of sleep, but I am simply too weary. I must close my eyes now...\n\n[[Sleep|feverdeath_end]]\n
<<set $badges[14] = 'true'>><<popup 14>><<save>>\s\nI must get an answer to my question!\n\nI keep a firm grip on the nurse's arm and demand once again to see Mr. Girard.\n\nThe nurse's expression changes slowly from one of irritation to a much for deferential demeanor. She bids me wait a moment and she'll return with Mr. Girard.\n\nAt last, I am finally going to be able to communicate the good news of my treatment to someone who will be in a position to make use of it.\n\nWhile I am waiting for the nurse to fetch Mr. Girard, I take the opportunity to observe some of the patients. Although a great many sick are here, I can see that care has been taken to insure that all have been made as comfortable as possible. Nurses treat the ill with kindness, and there is an obvious effort to keep the building clean, despite the tendency of the fever victims to soil all they touch.\n\nThe facility is by no means perfect, and for all the kind attention patients here seem to receive, a quick glance out the window reveals the steady traffic of bodies being removed from the main building. Still, it is a far more agreeable atmosphere than I might have imagined.\n\nAt last I see the nurse returning, but instead of bringing just Mr. Girard, she seems to be accompanied by three large men, none of whom seem to be in a very pleasant mood.\n\nI am annoyed at the nurse's seeming inability to follow my very basic instruction, but I am determined to get my message through to Mr. Girard.\n\n“I am here to see Mr. Girard regarding a very urgent matter. Would one of you be him?” I ask, trying to remain as polite as possible.\n\nBut the men quickly close ranks around me. \n\n“You need to leave. Now.” the biggest says.\n\n“I have important information regarding this fever to convey to Mr. Girard. Please step aside!”\n\nThe impertinent thugs refuse to move. I have no choice but to try and push myself past them.\n\nI try and shove myself past the smallest one, but I am not successful. Not only do I fail to break away from the dour fellows, but it seems my efforts only convinced them to expell me from the building. \n\nAlthough I protest vehemently, the three men make short work of throwing me out of the hospital.\n\nIt seems I must [[return home|fools]] in failure.
Surviving History: \nThe Fever!
“Stop!” a thin man with an overgrown beard comes dashing down the street toward myself and the Father.\n\n“You, you are a doctor, yes?” he pants, apparently out of breath from his little sprint, “Dr. Brooks, that is?”\n\n“Who is asking?” I reply, a little uncertain of how to respond to this thin, unkempt fellow. I am not sure how he knows who I am, but I certainly do not know him.\n\nSuddenly the man grabs me by the arm and pulls him in close to him. Whispering in my ear he says, “You treat the //fever//, right?” I suspect I can smell a hint of whiskey on his breath.\n\nI pull myself away from him and put a few paces between myself and the wild man.\n\n“I am on my way to attend a few cases of it now. If you'll excuse me, I really have no time to waste,” I tell him and signal to the priest that it is time to go.\n\nWe get only a few steps ahead before the thin man runs in front of us. I supposed I am not surprised that this strange fellow would not let me away so easily.\n\nHe looks at me, then at the priest, and then he settles his gaze back on me. He straightens himself up and tugs gently at his disheveled coat.\n\n“You gentlemen will have to forgive me,” he says, speaking much more calmly now. “I missed you at your house, Dr. Brooks, and was afraid I wouldn't catch you. You see, I am actually here on behalf of the Mayor. He would very much like to see you, and to discuss with you the city's efforts to combat the fever.”\n\nThe man pauses for a moment. It is possible he is waiting for my answer, but truthfully I am so surprised by his shift in demeanor and by this startling news of the Mayor wishing to speak with me, that I have no words.\n\nThe man continues, “Dr. Brooks, I can see you are busy and the Mayor of course respects your time. But he is very keen to do the best for the city during this terrible crisis. Would you please accompany me to his office?”\n\nWell, this really is something! I should very much like to [[share my thoughts with the Mayor|go_with]] and see what kind of efforts can be implemented city-wide to fight the yellow fever.\n\nStill, there seems something not quite right with this man. Maybe I should tell this man that I will visit the Mayor after I [[finish my obligations to the priest|the_priest]].\n
Having left the foul confines of that pestilent abode, I am grateful to draw a breath from the outdoors, even if the scents of Hell Town can hardly be said to be fragrant. \n\nEager to be away from this place, I scurry to finish the rest of my appointments. The remainder of my cases are thankfully uneventful. I am hopeful that all the whispered rumors and fears of this new plague are greatly exaggerated, but I suppose [[only time will tell...|choke_1]]
I can no longer count just how many cases of yellow fever I have attended personally, but I know that the disease's workings are as mysterious to me now as they were when this epidemic first began. All our best physicians continue to disagree about the fever's mechanisms and the means of curing it. It would seem that for all our efforts, the only thing we know for certain is that the disease has a fearfully high mortality rate. \n\nWith those somber reflections in mind, I fear that I can no longer deny the fact that my own body appears to be succumbing to this dread illness. I have tried mightily to dismiss the symptoms I've experienced over the past three days: the headaches, the dry tongue, and feverishness. But today, I feel so lightheaded and weak that I cannot continue my work. Perhaps I am merely overworked and [[need only to rest a bit|fatefulrest]]. <<if $bushhillme eq 'true'>>Then again, if it is the fever, maybe I should [[ask Sarah to take me to Bush Hill|bushhilldeath]] rather than leave it up to my family to watch me weaken and suffer.<<endif>>\n<<if $grandsonlives eq 'true' || $bushhillme eq 'false'>>\nBut maybe I need to consider the very real possibility that I am at this very moment, standing on the threshold of death. Should I use what little strength I have to [[begin making my final preparations|lawyer]]?\n<<endif>>\n\n\n
I am usually quite confident about my diagnoses, but for some reason, this just doesn't seem right. Scarlatina might explain the child, but this woman...\n\nThe fever and the inflamed throat seem right, but the piles of dried vomit and hollow, sunken look of her eyes seem to hint at something more.\n\nI shall send the boy to the apothecary for some laudanum and calomel. The laudanum I hope will suppress her vomiting and bring her some much needed rest, while the calomel will work to purge her system of any remaining putrescence.\n\nIt may not be a specific remedy for a specific cause, but I trust that these medicines should be sufficient to bring her to a healthier state than she is in now.\n\n[[There is nothing more than I can do now.|choke_1]] I shall check on her again soon and see how she progresses.
<center><span class="chpt-heading">Chapter 3: <br>A City in Ruins</span></center>\n\nOctober 9, 1793<<set $date="October 9, 1793">>\n\n<<if $track eq 10>>By some miracle, Sarah survived the fever, but watching her suffer in illness for so long has taken its toll on me. I no longer hope to discover a cure, but merely to survive without being visited by any further grief.\n\n<<else if $grandson eq 'true'>><<display 'grandson'>>\n\n<<else if $track eq 6 >> My dear boy John, Jr. succumbed to the fever within just a few days of my discovering his illness. Even though I watched over him night and day and applied myself relentlessly to bringing about a cure, death refused to be denied its young victim.\n\n<<else if $track eq 8>>My heart is filled with sorrow over the death of our infant son Matthew, followed closely behind by the death of our only daughter Louisa. <<if $sarahcrazy eq 'true'>>I felt so certain that my discoveries in Hell Town had given me some advantage over this fever, but it seems I was terribly, terribly wrong.<<else>>I cannot help but wonder if I should have intervened as soon as I had the chance instead of relying on the advice of another physician.<<endif>>\n\nThe sleepless nights, punctuated by their moans of pain and unrelenting pleas for something to quench their thirsts will haunt me for the rest of my days.\n\n<<endif>>The church bells in the city have ceased tolling, but it is not for a lack of victims of the yellow fever. No, the bells have stopped tolling because all normal discourse in the city has ground to a halt in the hopes of preventing the fever's further spread. \n\nIf I am to be honest, the silence is a relief. For a time, those bells only served to bring terror to the living, and hopelessness to the sick and in despair. At the same time, however, the silence is also an admission of defeat. \n\nNot only are church doors closed during the trying times, but nearly ever channel of communication has been disrupted. Newspapers no longer circulate. Mail delivery has ceased. Coffee houses and taverns have shut their doors. The Mayor's Court no longer operates. Even the College of Physicians, which had pledged to meet weekly throughout the epidemic, has been unable to fulfill that agreement. Everywhere I turn in this city, I see the signs of the yellow fever's crushing victory over the humble residents of Philadelphia. \n\nThough it seems new cases of the yellow fever are diminishing in frequency, the city remains a most frightful place to be. By some accounts, the dead are being laid to rest at a rate of upwards of 150 a day. Few who remain in the city who have been untouched by this scourge. Then again, there are few who remain in the city at all. Of our usual 50,000 residents, nearly 20,000 have fled. Most do not feel it is safe to return. \n\nAt times it seems as though the only ones still working in this city seem to be the private nurses, many of whom now command a sum only the wealthiest denizens can afford. And of course, there are the wagons, still wending their way up and down the city streets, their haunting calls, “Bring out your dead!” echoing in the otherwise silent streets. \n\nWill this Judgment on the poor inhabitants of Philadelphia never end? \n\n<<if $wife eq 'dead'>><<display 'wifeDead'>>\n<<else if $track eq 10 || $track eq 5 || $track eq 8>><<display 'myDying'>>\n<<else if $track eq 6 >>The death of my eldest son has left me reeling. I feel like only a shadow of a man. I make the motions that a normal human should, but the world seems plunged into darkness. It is a morbid thought, but I sometimes wish that this wretched fever would take me as well. I try my best to hide these feelings from Sarah and the children, but with so much death surrounding us all, it is, at times, simply impossible to feign any sense of normalcy.\n\n<<display 'jjdead'>>\n<<else if $track eq 7>><<display 'deathhouse'>>\n<<endif>>
My initial skepticism about the danger of this fever has proven to be a grave miscalculation. I can only hope now that it will not cost my family or myself too dearly.\n\nIt seems everyone who can is leaving the city behind. Eight days ago, even President Washington rejected Philadelphia's pestilential confines and retreated to the safety of Mount Vernon.\n\nI am sorely tempted now to flee with my family while none of us have yet fallen ill, but I also see now that the need for physicians in this city shall be greater than ever before. Should I embrace my obligations as a healer and [[stay to aid the sick|help_the_sick]] as I am sworn to do, or do I [[take my wife and children far away|failflee]] from this wretched, miasmatic town?\n
There is no need to be overly morbid. I am weak and fatigued, but I must not let myself think the worst. I shall sleep for a bit and see if that does not restore my spirits.\n\n[[Sleep.|i_am_sick]]
<center><span class="chpt-heading">Chapter 2:<br>In Health One Day and Buried the Next</span></center>\n\nSeptember 18, 1793 <<set $date="September 18, 1793">>\nThe fever is no longer a mere rumor. It is very real and it is ruthlessly laying waste to the good people of Philadelphia. For each soul carried off by the fever, a church bell tolls. The church bells of the city have been tolling day and night.\n\nThe disease is being referred to as the “Yellow Fever” for the way that the skin and eyes of those affected often takes on a yellowish hue, although this distinctive symptom is not present in every case.\n\nMany newspapers, both local and national, have ceased printing as a result of the pestilence. In the few that continue to circulate, I have seen ads taken out by Dr. Rush, suggesting that he has found a cure for the disease. I would very much like to believe that this is true, but from what I have seen, the yellow fever travels through the city unabated. Those of us who remain in the city can only hope that this dreadful trial shall soon come to an end.\n\n<<if $track eq 1>><<display 'brewTrack'>>\s\n<<else if $track eq 2>><<display 'dirtyboyTrack'>>\s\n<<else if $track eq 3>><<display 'conservativeTrack'>><<endif>>\n
<<if $badinvestigator eq 'false' && $remove eq 'false'>>\s\nAs I am not in the business of caring for the dead, so the corpse shall just have to remain where it is until the mother is recovered enough to have it removed to a cemetery.\n\nRight now, my concern is for the living, and it seems the woman will not be long for this world if I do not intervene swiftly and decisively.<<endif>><<if $badinvestigator eq 'true'>>Right now, my concern is for the living, and it seems the woman will not be long for this world if I do not intervene swiftly and decisively.<<endif>>\n\nIt is hard to say for certain what the cause of the woman's illness is, although the death of the young child may be a clue. Although I am loath to approach the woman again, I must examine her throat. \n\nAh, yes! Her tongue is quite red in color, as are the tonsils, fauces, and uvula.\n\n<html> <div class = "image"> <img id="mouth" src="/images/issues/2/2/fever/grayMouth.png" /> <p class = "caption">The woman's tongue, tonsils, fauces, and uvula are inflamed.</p> </div> </html>\n\nThe high fever, rapid pulse, red tongue and throat all suggest to me that she has a serious case of scarlet fever. Lately, I have seen many instances of the mild variety of scarlatina simplex affecting children in our city. It is entirely probably that both she and her dead child managed to contract the more complex and dangerous variety, scarlatina anginosa.\n\nTrue, the disease is not as common among adults as it is children, but it would not be unprecedented. Yes, I say scarlatina is a plausible, nay, a sensible diagnosis. Why then, am I hesitating? <<if $talk_to_rush eq "yes">>Is it possible this could, in fact, be a case of the terrible yellow fever that Dr. Rush described?<<endif>>\n<<set $paths[2]="true">><<set $track=2>>\n[[I trust myself and will treat for scarlet fever.|boy_patient_2]]\n[[I am plagued by doubt. I should only recommend palliative care.|palliative]]\n<<if $talk_to_rush eq "yes">>[[I fear I must treat this as yellow fever.|boy_patient_3]]<<endif>>
I cannot stay the course! This treatment is simply too severe. What could Dr. Rush have been thinking? Nearly 80 grams of jalap and calomel? I think even a horse would weaken under such doses. I cannot fathom Sarah surviving the treatment even if she were not diseased.\n\nNo, as frightening as this illness is, I must content myself with palliative care and [[pray that it is enough|pray1]].\n<<set $homeremedy="true">>
<<set $vomit = "true">>\s\n“Sir, I am merely concerned by the rather unusual color of your skin. You are sure you did nothing that might have contributed to its yellowish appearance?”\n\n“Of course I did no such thing. What do you mean 'yellowish color'? Mr. Brewster, what is he talking about?”\n\nMr. Berry looks at his employer with a look of wild desperation. In response, Mr. Brewster flashes me a sharp look—I am disappointed that the old merchant does not appear to understand the vital importance of getting at all the facts. \n\n“Please, Mr. Berry, get a hold of yourself,” I say. “We have only just begun our work here. Now, I must take your pulse.”\n\nMr. Brewster tries to calm the young clerk down, but to little effect. If we cannot settle him, it is going to be impossible to get an accurate assessment.\n\n“Mr. Berry, please,” I say sternly, “there is no need to act like a child. Now settle yourself. We shall take your pulse in a minute, when you are calm. In the meantime, let me examine your throat. Please, open your mouth, wide, sir.”\n\nThe clerk still has a wild look about him. Must he be so petulant and defiant? \n\nI demand once more that he open his mouth. This time, he swallows hard and complies. His tongue is red and smooth, almost glistening in appearance. His throat appears inflamed, but not overly so. I should like a closer look, but Mr. Berry is now squirming under my gaze. Why can this petulant man not be still?\n\n“Mr. Berry, please—” but I am unable to finish my thought. With no warning at all, Mr. Berry begins vomiting. \n\nMr. Brewster and I both attempt to dodge the vile discharge, but we are without success. The poor clerk is like a font of foul, black vomit. I have never in my life seen anything quite like this. \n\nAfter a seemingly interminable length of time, Mr. Berry's vomiting at last ceases. I am at a loss for what to do with the man, whose illness bears no resemblance to any I know. I tell Mr. Brewster to have one of his maids bring clean bedclothes and some strong, cold chamomile tea to help relieve the man of his nausea. \n\nMr. Brewster and I step outside the room while these preparations are underway.\n\n“This is indeed a surprising case, Mr. Brewster. I advise you to see to it that the young man takes a few drops of elixir of vitriol should his vomiting be unquieted by the cold tea. See that he does not leave that room until I can research his symptoms further.”\n\n“As you wish, Dr. Brooks. Would you—” he pauses, noting the foul black stains on our clothing. “I suppose you best not attend to the housemaid just now.”\n\n“No, I should think not. I shall return tomorrow to see her and visit the clerk again.”\n\nAlthough Mr. Brewster is not the type of man to show it, I am certain I see the unmistakable traces of fear in the furrows of his brow. I wish that I could give him an assurance that all will be well.\n\nI should [[go home now|homejump]] and change clothes.\n
With each step, my feet feel like they are full of lead. If only I weren't so very thirsty.\n\nIt's not very far now. Just focus on putting one foot in front of the other.\n\nRight.\n\nLeft.\n\nRight.\n\nLeft.\n\nJust a little bit further... maybe if I stop and catch my breath for just a moment.\n\nI'll sit, I think. Actually just lie down here and regain my strength.\n\nI just need to close my eyes, take a short nap to restore myself. I'll get right up in just another minute or two.\n\n----\n<<set $ending[11] = 'true'>><<set $currentEnd=11>>\nDr. Brooks did not reach his destination. He collapsed on the nearly deserted streets of Philadelphia on <<print $date>> and died where he lay.\n\n\nTHE END.\n----\n<<display 'ending tracker'>>
I have never been one to shy away from a mystery, and I simply cannot imagine what could be producing this noise. I lift up the burlap sack, but the darkness of the basement makes it hard for me to easily see what lays underneath. It looks to be some kind of a pit.\n\nLeaning in closer to examine the pit's contents, I am suddenly struck in the face. I do not know by what, but the pain is sharp and searing. The piercing blow startles me so, and I lose my balance and fall into the pit. \n\nMore stinging blows follow. Even though my eyes are swelling shut, I can see all too clearly now what is happening. The pit is alive with snakes!\n\nUnfortunately for me, these snakes are rather unhappy at my clumsy intrusion. I can feel them continue to bite at my arms and legs. For some reason though, the pain now grows less intense with every bite...\n<<set $paths[9]="true">>\n<<display 'snakedeath'>>\n
I cannot ignore my wife's condition, not in these dangerous times. I must insist that she let me examine her and see if she is suffering from the early stages of the fever.\n\nSarah at first attempts to refuse, saying that she is well enough, but I swear that I can see a yellowness to her eyes. With such irrefutable evidence of illness, Sarah at last confesses that she has felt an ache in her bones these past few days and that she has been concealing a mild fever from me.\n\n“But John, surely this cannot be same the dreaded fever that has carried so many off. I thought it was debilitating, and accompanied by terrible sweats and vomiting. As you can plainly see, I'm not as ill as all that!”\n\nI agree that at the moment, [[her illness does not appear to be very severe|wifeill_3]]. Perhaps she will improve without any intervention. But then again, her symptoms seem remarkably like those of the yellow fever. [[Any further delay in treating her might prove fatal.|wifeill_2]]
<<set $badinvestigator = "true">>\s\nI shrug off the unpleasant sight and eagerly make my way home for a quick meal.\n\nUpon my arrival, I am sad to see that my family is not there to greet me. Although we often take our dinner together, it seems that today my wife has taken the children out. \n\nGrabbing some bread, cheese, and a few hard-boiled eggs, I hastily prepare a modest dinner for myself. I decide to take advantage of the quiet house and read the papers as I eat.\n\nWhat's this? A curious message from Mayor Clarkson. It says something about having <html>“</html>great reason to apprehend that a dangerous, infectious disorder<html>”</html> is spreading through the city. \n\nSo there is some truth to the rumors about a fever... But surely, there is not much to worry about! I've seen no evidence of any such illness. \n\nPerhaps the mayor is merely trying to startle our citizens into at last removing their filth from the streets. Now that, I can certainly support. Why just the other day I was nearly bowled over by two stray dogs as they were fighting over spoiled meat along Water Street.\n\nWell, if Mayor Clarkson wants to encourage my fellow citizens to be more diligent in the consolidation and removal of their waste, I shall not be one to complain! Still, I shall be happy when [[these rumors of fever have finally blown over.|choke_1]]
As a professional healer, I know that I cannot leave the residents of this city behind in the face of epidemic. However, I can shield my family from sharing in whatever terrible fate may be in store for those who remain in this pestilential city.\n\nPerhaps there will be nothing to this disease, but if it is even half as bad as Dr. Rush fears, the days ahead will almost certainly be harrowing. \n\nIn the Middle Ages, during outbreaks of the black plague, the public often became hysterical with fear. Chaos reigned the streets of afflicted cities, and those fearing the end of days would march through the streets, flagellating themselves as an outrageous gesture of penitence. \n\nAlthough I am confident that our native citizens are made of greater stuff than the peasants of medieval times, I still fear the amount of civil disorder that might spring from an outbreak of this modern day yellow plague. It is my duty as a husband and father to ensure my family's safety.\n\nHurrying home, I find my wife, Sarah, and our three children just finishing their morning cleaning. The children greet me happily, but it is evident that my unexpected return home has made Sarah uneasy.\n\n“Is everything all right, John?” she asks me, a wary look on her face. \n\nNot wanting to startle the children, I pull Sarah aside and I instruct her to write her mother and explain that she and the children will be coming to stay at their farm outside of New Brunswick for a fortnight.\n\nConfused and not a little upset, Sarah asks me what the matter is. I am not entirely sure what I should say.\n\n[[Tell her about the fever|tellher]]\n[[Tell her to do as you say|obeyme]]\n[[Tell her the children look pale|palekids]] \n
Upon my arrival home, Sarah is mortified by my appearance.\n\n“My God, John, what happened? What is this?” she says, looking at the dried black vomit encrusted on my coat and shirt.\n\n“It's nothing,” I tell her, forcing as nonchalant an expression as I can muster. “A most unusual case is all. I should change out of these soiled clothes.”\n\nSarah stares at me with wide eyes, but I refuse to explain further. I do not want to worry her with the details of the incident. However, I must not forget to burn these clothes straightaway in the morning.\n<<set $track="1">>\nDespite the stoic face I am putting on for the sake of Sarah and the children, I fear for what [[the days ahead|choke_1]] will bring.
<<set $flirt = "true">><<set $badges[2] = "true">><<popup 2>><<save>>\s\n“Please forgive me for speaking so boldly. My only concern is that there seems to be an air of panic hovering over the city of late, and I do not want to encourage it. Rather, I would like to collect facts, that we might better combat any adversary that lurks within our borders.”\n\nThe hardness slowly fades from her face, and Miss Brewster seems to be considering my words carefully. \n\n“You are right, Dr. Brooks. I was letting my concern for those who live and work under our roof carry me away. Of course you need to investigate using all the tools at your disposal. Just...”\n\nShe looks like she is unsure whether or not to finish the thought. I encourage her to go on. \n\n“Just please remember to be compassionate in your work. Your medicine may be a rational pursuit, but the people you apply it to are often consumed by pain and fear. Science alone does not always ease their suffering.”\n\nHer estimation of the restorative power of the healing arts is a bit more dismissive than I would like, but I am nevertheless touched by her desire to comfort those in anguish. I assure her that I will take her advice to heart and make my way to the staircase. But something about what she said suddenly gives me pause.\n\n“Miss Brewster, before I go upstairs, could you answer one further question for me?”\n\n“Of course,” she replies. “Anything.”\n\n“Are you certain that you are feeling all right? After all, if there is a plague befalling our city, it could be the airs in this very shop that might have affected your clerk. I will not go upstairs unless you first assure me that you are feeling no ill effects from all this excitement.”\n\nI could be mistaken, but Miss Brewster seemed to blush slightly at my query.\n\n“It is very kind of you to worry about me, but I feel just fine. I only wish I could say the same about the clerk, Mr. Berry. Please, do check on him.”\n\nAt her insistence, I proceed upstairs and find Mr. Brewster in a state of anxiety rivaling that of his daughter.\n\n<<display 'brewster_2'>>
I cannot ignore Mrs. Holden's ominous utterance. If a mysterious disease is indeed carrying people off, I ought to know about it. I approach one of the men loading the body into the carriage to be removed to the cemetery. \n\n<html>“</html>Pardon me, sir. But I wonder if you might tell me what has happened here.<html>”</html>\n\nI'm afraid the man shows no sign of making a reply, so I block his path into the carriage. The gaunt laborer seems chagrined, but at long last he shrugs at me and points to the doorway of the modest brick residence. Just inside the entryway, I see a man, well dressed but visibly shaken with grief, leaning against the wall as though he himself might soon collapse.\n\nI approach the shaken fellow. Although the haunted look upon his face ages him, he cannot be more than 25 years of age. I repeat my query.\n\n<html>“</html>We don't know what carried my sister off,<html>”</html> is his tearful reply. <html>“</html>It was a most terrible, fearful illness. Her eyes and skin turned an unnatural yellow color. And she—she couldn't hold down any food. She just kept getting sick. Foul, foul stuff it was. Like nothing I've ever seen before. And it seemed to happen so quickly...<html>”</html>\n\nHis voice breaks and he turns away from me. It seems he cannot bear to recall her illness any further.\n\nI do not wish to burden the man further with my curiosity, but I confess that his description accords with no illness that I know of. I would very much like the opportunity to study this further.\n\n[[Go to the medical library.|library]]\n[[Call on the rest of my patients.|patients2]]
As confident as I am that I have stumbled on to a powerful treatment for this yellow fever, I fear I would never forgive myself if I later thought I had treated my own infant in haste. I will send for a more dispassionate colleague at once and [[pray that my hesitation does not cost my family|choke_2]].
I feel so very weak and thirsty now. I cannot make it to another law office, but I hope I have the strength to make it home.\n\nI begin to retrace my steps. <<display 'dropdead_end'>>
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I think it best to go where the activity is. There are a handful of sailors, recently arrived in town, who have settled in for drinks and a meal.\n\n[[Have a drink and listen for news.|drink]]\n[[Buy a round of drinks for the sailors.|round]]\n[[Leave.|patients]]
We arrive at last at a rather sizeable and well-kept home. I notice the name Pierce engraved alongside the doorbell. \n\nThe man escorts me inside where I am hardly surprised to discover that I am not wanted by the Mayor after all. Rather, this man's wife and two daughters are sick with the fever.\n\n“I am sorry for the deception, but I could find no doctor who would come,” he explains.\n\n“You could have taken them to the hospital at Bush Hill rather than deceive me,” I say, for I am certainly in no mood to treat anyone under duress.\n\n“Are you daft? I might as well just go ahead and toss my family into Potter's Field as send them to Bush Hill! I told my wife we should leave town, begged her to, in fact, but she thought that the best medical help and the most conveniences would be available in the city. And yet, look at what we've been reduced to.”\n\nA dark cloud falls over the man's face. Although I do not agree with his methods of bringing me here, his distress is obviously genuine. I suppose I can examine his family quickly and then return to the priest.\n\n“I will treat your family,” I tell him, “but no more lies, Mr. Pierce.” \n\nHe seems startled that I have discovered his name, but then recovers himself. “Thank you, Dr. Brooks. And I apologize for my rudeness earlier. My name is Roderick Pierce. I deal in dry goods and commodities, and I assure you I will pay handsomely for your services and for coming here when no one else would.”\n\nI hold my tongue even though I am sorely tempted to remind him that I did not exactly come out of my own free will. But I am here now and chastising the man further is not apt to do much good. Instead, I ask him to take me to my patients.\n\nThe woman and children are in a bad way, but I do believe they are not beyond hope. I set the distressed husband to preparing some gruel so I may treat the two in peace. I bleed them both and give the restless children both a mild sedative.\n\nAfter a long while Mr. Pierce finally returns with some chicken broth.\n\n“Will this do?” he asks me.\n\n“Gruel or creamed rice would be better,” I tell him. “They seem to be past the stage of vomiting now. I am concerned about keeping up their strength.”\n\nThe man says nothing, but looks helplessly at the broth and then at me.\n\n“It will do,” I reply and take the dish from him.\n\nI see to it that each takes some of the broth, although I am not able to get the children to take as much as I would like. At this point, there is little that can be done but wait.\n \nI tell Mr. Pierce that I must now leave and attend to other patients.\n\n“No!” he says, a frantic look in his eye. “You can't leave. You won't come back. You must stay until they are well!”\n\n“I cannot possibly do that,” I tell him, trying to remain calm in the face of his growing phrenzy. “Mr. Pierce, I assure you my staying here would do no good. My watching over them will not facilitate the healing process one bit. Be reasonable, sir. You know that I speak the truth.”\n\nHe considers my words and looks as though he may relent, but then he begins to shake his head. I cannot let him argue with me further. I pick up my things.\n\n“I will check in on them,” I assure him, “but I must now go to Willing's Alley. There are many others there who are also depending on me to be good to my word.”\n\n“I- I know, Dr. Brooks. But I cannot care for them alone. The servants have all fled. I am just a trader in dry goods. I know nothing about managing the house or caring for the sick. My wife is... my wife...” he cannot complete the thought.\n\n“Surely you can afford to hire a nurse,” I tell him. \n\n“Are you not listening? I could not entice anyone to come to this house to see to them. I don't know why they wouldn't help us. It's as though we were cursed.” \n\nI am not unsympathetic, but I am growing tired of listening to this man's excuses. I really must depart.\n\n“Fine,” I say, “I will have my son John, Jr. to help you with the house until I can return. Is that assurance enough for you?”\n\nAt last the man seems to revive from his reverie of self-pity.\n\n“Yes. Yes, thank you. Thank you!” he says. “Oh, I do appreciate it Dr. Brooks. I'll send for the lad right away. And I will pay you handsomely for this. Thank you!”\n\nAt last I am free from the pathetic Mr. Pierce. I do hate to make his problems my son's problems, but the boy is capable, moreso than Mr. Pierce at least. I expect I will be checking in on the Pierce household rather frequently in [[the coming days|forced_jjdead]].
----\n<<set $ending[9] = 'true'>><<set $currentEnd=9>>\nOn <<print $date>>, Dr. Brooks arrived at the Bush Hill hospital in a state of unconsciousness. Within six hours, he was dead of the yellow fever. \n\nJohn, Jr. would also succumb to the fever within four days of his father passing, leaving Sarah Brooks as the only living yellow fever survivor in the Brooks family. Although she would remarry, Sarah remained childless. She died of typhoid fever in 1852.\n\n\nTHE END.\n----\n<<display 'ending tracker'>>
I know Dr. Rush is confident in his skills as a physician and believes that the disease can be successfully combatted, but what if he is wrong? At this moment, even he admits he is powerless before this bilious remitting yellow fever. What good can I possibly do by staying? I have my family and myself to think of...\n\nMy mind is made up! I shall go home at once and tell <<if $meet_family eq "yes">>Sarah and the children <<else>>my family <<endif>> that we are leaving the city. Why should we stay and face this scourge when we have the means to do otherwise?\n<<set $paths[3]="true">>\n<<display "flee_end">>
<<set $sarahcrazy = 'true'>>\nI //will// prove the efficacy of my treatment method and I //will// save my son. \n\nWasting no time, I begin <<$dirtymethod>>. All I can do now is [[watch and wait|choke_2]].
“The only epidemic I see in this city, Mr. Brewster, is an epidemic of fear. <<if $maid eq "true">>Your maid seems to have a fairly common remitting fever, and looks as though she should make a full recovery. As for your clerk, why, the<<else>>The<<endif>> fretful man has simply worked himself up into a phrenzy.”\n\nMr. Brewster looks at me somberly. I should think he would be relieved by this news, but his brow remains deeply furrowed. Does he doubt my diagnosis?\n\n“Surely, Sir, you are not still convinced that there is an ominous plague at work here, even though we have seen no signs of any such danger?” I ask him.\n\nStill, he looks troubled. I would expect a man of such great sense and business acumen to be able to admit to having been carried away by superstition and gossip. Such unreasonable fretting is more often the domain of women, as they so often allow themselves to be governed by vanity and sentimentality rather than reason. \n\nAt last he heaves a great sigh and says, “I do hope you are correct, Dr. Brooks. Thank you for stopping by.”\n\nWe shake hands, and I depart to attend to my other patients.\n\nI know Mr. Brewster is disappointed that I did not do more, but he would be wrong to underestimate just how dread and deadly a contagion fear can be. I am confident that [[in the coming days|choke_1]] my caution in this matter shall be vindicated.\n<<set $badinvestigator = "true">>\n<<set $track="1">>
My aches and pains shall just have to wait. I have pressing business to attend to today<html>—</html>I must see if there are any lawyers still conducting business in the city so that I might draw up a will. With Sarah gone now, and the children so young still, I cannot delay in making sure that they are all three adequately provided for.\n\n<html><div class = "image"><img src="/images/issues/2/2/fever/ellipsis.png" /></div></html>\nAfter hours of searching, I was at last able to find a man willing to help me put my affairs in order. I dare say I had substantially more funds to leave to my children prior to paying this ruthless opportunist his predatory fees, but there is little I can do about that now. At least if I leave this world, I shall know my children will not spend their years in an orphanage or a poor house.\n\nAnd leave this world I may, for it would seem that I have failed to escape this plague. As I searched high and low for a law-man this afternoon, I was keenly aware of the symptoms I was developing. No longer merely a headache, but also feverishness, a parched throat, and achiness have overcome me. It was a struggle simply to make it home, as my body longs for sleep.\n\nI have tried drinking water to soothe the burning sensation in my throat, but to little effect. I think I shall lie down now and <<if $meetpru eq 'true'>>[[rest a bit|angel_of_mercy]]<<else>>[[rest a bit|feverdeath_end]]<<endif>>.
Although I strongly suspect that the nervous fear which is coursing through this household at the moment is to blame for Mr. Berry's untimely faint, I nevertheless feel obligated to examine him in person.\n\nAs I enter the room, I am struck by a rather strong and unpleasant odor emanating from the patient. Before I proceed with the examination, I take Mr. Brewster aside and ask if the clerk is always so pungently odiferous. He assures me that the clerk is a most fastidious man, never negligent in the care of his toilette. \n\nTurning back to the clerk, I see that he is rather visibly uncomfortable. Nevertheless, he insists that he has merely a touch of the normal summer ague and nothing more. Much like the housemaid, I notice that his skin has an [[unusual, slightly yellow pallor to it|unusualskin]], but I am undecided about pressing the issue, given Mr. Brewster's insight regarding the man's vanity.\n\nI take Mr. Berry's pulse, which is rapid but full. Without any further evidence of a malignant disease, I am afraid there is little else to do here but to [[assure the Brewsters|fearnot2]] that they are unnecessarily worried. Neither maid nor clerk appear dangerously ill to me.
I expect Sarah to trust my judgment without reservation. I will not flinch under her scrutiny nor allow her to bend my will with her stony stares.\n\n“Do not make me repeat myself again. I have my reasons.”\n\nSLAP!!\n\nI am utterly stunned. Sarah's slap burns across my face, but I have no chance to scold her. She begins picking up things— books, dishes, children's toys— and hurling them at me.\n\n“Leave, you insufferable lout!” she bellows.\n\nI can see there's no calming her temper now. [[I had better leave|aftermath]] before she picks up something more dangerous.
I ask Sarah to summon a carriage to take me to Bush Hill. \n\nI see the expression of horror that crosses her face. “You have the fever?” she gasps.\n\nI turn away, unable to bear her scrutiny. I Know all to well that if I die, she will bear the burden of raising our children alone... rather, she will bear the burden of raising our //child// alone. God only knows how she will endure.\n\n“Sarah, there is no time to waste. You must summon a carriage now if I'm to have any chance.”\n\nI have seen how quickly this fever can strike its victims down. It would not be wise to delay now that I can no longer deny being afflicted. Although now that I am facing the prospect personally, I wonder whether it is preferable to be carried off quickly or to face the slow, lingering death that this cruel fever can also produce.\n\nWhile I wait in the house for Sarah to hail someone to transport me to the fever hospital, John Jr. comes over and sits by my side.\n\n“Father, are you dying?” he asks. \n\nI should like to think I am telling him the truth when I answer, “No, son. They will take good care of me at Bush Hill, I am sure.”\n\n“Can I come too?” he asks.\n\nI am touched by the young man's compassion, but I explain to him that it is probably best for him to stay here. “Only those who have the fever belong at the hospital, John.”\n\n“I know,” he replies. And then after a long pause, “How do you know if you have the fever, Father?”\n\nThe question troubles me. Why does he ask that? Is it just boyish curiosity? Or something worse?\n\nJust then Sarah bursts into the room.\n\n“We must hurry, John. The carriage is waiting but he won't wait for long.”\n\nI want to question John, Jr. further, but Sarah proves to be incredibly strong. She half pushes, half drags me to the door in spite of my resistance. \n\n“Perhaps the boy should come with me,” I say, but Sarah doesn't seem to hear me as she stuffs me headlong into the carriage. She slams the door as sends the driver off in a hurry.\n\nI turn behind me and take a long look as the carriage pulls away. Sarah has her arms wrapped around John, Jr. and both weary worried looks on their faces as they watch me depart.\n\nI wonder if this will be the last time I ever see them.\n\n----\n\n<<display 'widow_death'>>
I depart Dr. Rush, my head spinning as I imagine the possible implications of his chilling discovery of an impending epidemic. I am eager to get home and search for guidance in my private library of medical texts, <<display "strangeboy">>
<<set $sailors = 'true'>>\nI buy a small group of sailors a round of ale in the hope of losening their lips.\n\n“Much appreciated,” the shortest one says, raising his glass.\n\nI take the opportunity to ask them whether or not they've heard anything about a fever.\n\n“Aye,” says a lanky one. “I heard a ship came in not too long ago, whole load of 'em was sick with something awful. I can't swear if it's true or not, not having seen it with me own eyes. But I trust the bloke who told me.”\n\nI admit it's not the most reliable report, but there are simply too many reports of the existence of this fever for me to ignore it further. I suppose I have no choice now but to try and [[find Dr. Rush|rush_1]] and see if he can tell me any concrete facts about this disease.
I find the maid to be in a much-depleted state. Mr. Brewster informs me that this is the fifth day of the old Irishwoman's sickness. She was in great distress yesterday, but today her complaints seem to be of a comparatively mild variety. She still complains of great thirst, but the considerable vomiting of yesterday appears to have ceased altogether.\n\nThe previous physician prescribed a gentle dose of calomel as a purgative, and this seems to have brought the woman some relief. \n\nI'm afraid I do not see anything particularly exceptional about her illness at all. It would appear as though I shall not see the symptoms of this mysterious fever in the Brewster house, despite my fears to the contrary. \n\nI shall simply recommend the Brewsters cease their unfounded worries that an especially malignant disease has taken residence under their roof and tell them [[I will not further indulge their fears|fearnot2]].
<<set $badges[18]="true">><<popup 18>><<save>>\s\nI don't dare try to plunge into the water myself. I am not sure that I would achieve anything other than drowning myself as well as the girl. But surely there must be a rope or something at these docks that I could throw to her. \n\nI see some large coils of rope used for tying ships to the dock, but they are much too big toss to the girl. There must be something...\n\nOf course! The passenger vessel! What a fool I am not to think of this sooner. I run to the bow of the ship and shout out to the captain for a rope. He is reluctant to comply.\n\n“Damn it, man. A woman has fallen into the water,” I explain. “She's drowning. There's no time to waste!” \n\n“Well why didn't you say so?” The captain replies curtly. In an instant, he has raised the cry of “man overboard” to his entire crew. \n\nTwo sailors immediately plunge from the vessel into the water. I point to where the girl was last seen, even though there is no trace of her at the surface now. But the sailors are undeterred. They dive under the water in search of the young woman. \n\nAfter what seems like ages, they resurface, pulling up the motionless girl behind them. They bring her to the water's edge and I help them hoist the soggy woman onto the pier.\n\nI quickly begin to examine her for any signs of life, but I see none. I cover the woman with my coat in an effort to warm her, and I ask the captain for a bellows. One is quickly delivered to me by one of his men. \n\nI place the instrument in her mouth and begin gently pumping in air. I keep this activity up for a solid five minutes, but there is no response from the woman. I must admit defeat. She is drowned.\n\nThe crowd that had gathered, no doubt hoping to witness a resuscitation, disappointedly disperses. I, too, am disappointed. I cannot help but wonder if my hesitation to jump into the water may have cost the girl her life.\n\nThere is little I can do now but continue on with the task that brought me to the docks in the first place: dispensing Dr. Rush's purgative pills. I search my coat pockets for the box, but what's this? It seems that in my efforts to save the girl, my coat and the box of pills within it were soaked. The pills are now ruined.\n\nWhat an awful day this has become! It seems I can do nothing right. I can only hope for better luck in [[the coming days|choke_2]].
I hate to be abrupt, but the young lady is far too emotional right now to be of much help to me in investigating these illnesses. I excuse myself at once and make haste up the stairs.\n\n<<display 'brewster_2'>>
----\n<<set $ending[0] = 'true'>><<set $currentEnd=0>>\nYour drunk and seemingly belligerent vendetta against the wobbly chair was mistaken by the tavern owner for deadly aggression. As a result, Dr. Brooks died on <<$date>> from a fatal blow to the head.\n\nAlthough Dr. Brooks failed to discover it, a deadly fever was in fact spreading in Philadelphia. Between the months of August and November, nearly 20,000 Philadelphians would flee the city, while an estimated 5,000 others who stayed behind would die of a terrible and mysterious pestilence, which we now know to have been Yellow Fever.\n\n\nTHE END.\n----\n<<display 'ending tracker'>>
<<set $badges[1]="true">><<popup 1>><<save>><<set $vomit = "true">>\s\n“Mr. Berry, would you kindly remove your coat and shirt that I might see the extent of the coloration?”\n\nAlthough hardly an unusual request, the clerk blanches visibly at the suggestion. He pulls the bedcovers up to his chin, as though he hoped to disappear under them.\n\n“Sir, I must insist! I cannot treat you if you will not let me conduct an examination.”\n\nStill the clerk refuses. Seeing that I can do no good here, I grab my satchel and start for the door. Mr. Brewster, stops me, however, and speaks harshly to the clerk:\n\n“Mr. Berry, you will do as the doctor says or you will look for employment elsewhere.”\n\nThe man is clearly distraught by the options before him. Reluctantly, he starts to undress. As he does, the foul odor we smelled upon entering the room becomes stronger. It suddenly becomes clear why the clerk was so hesitant to comply.\n\nIt appears that while I was attending the housemaid, the poor man vomited upon himself and then tried to conceal the mess underneath his coat and the bedsheets. \n\nAs more and more of the voided substance is revealed, I can see that his vomit is quite remarkable, both in terms of its unpleasant stench and its appearance. The vomit is almost entirely black in color and clumped together, almost like rotten coffee grounds. It is exceedingly foul.\n\nIn addition to the unpleasant discovery of the vomit, it is also now readily apparent that the clerk's discolored skin is not confined to his face. His entire body seems to have taken on an unnaturally yellow hue. I have never seen a case quite like this before.\n\nI ask Mr. Brewster to step out of the room with me while the clerk redresses. \n\n“This is indeed a surprising case, Mr. Brewster. I advise you to see to it that the young man takes a few drops elixir of vitriol should his vomiting be unquieted by the cold tea. See that he does not leave that room until I can research his symptoms further.”\n\n“As you wish, Dr. Brooks.” Although Mr. Brewster is not the type of man to show it openly, I am certain I see the unmistakable traces of fear in the furrows of his brow. I wish that I could give him an assurance that all would be well.\n\n<html><div class = "image"><img src="/images/issues/2/2/fever/ellipsis.png" /></div></html>\nUpon my arrival home, Sarah chastises me for having soiled my clothes. It appears as though some of the store clerk's black vomit got on me while I was examining him. \n\n“It's nothing,” I tell her, forcing as nonchalant an expression as I can muster. “A most unusual case is all. I should change out of these soiled clothes.”\n\nSarah looks at me with piercing eyes, but I refuse to explain further. I do not want to worry her with the details of the incident. However, I must not forget to burn these clothes straightaway in the morning.\n<<set $track="1">>\nDespite the stoic face I am putting on for the sake of Sarah and the children, I fear for what [[the days ahead|choke_1]] will bring.\n
Although I am still suspicious of her motives, for the moment I choose to give her the benefit of the doubt. I agree to help her get the insensate man off the ground. \n\n“I am a nurse,” she says by way of explanation. “The boarding house owner called upon me a few days ago and told me that there was a sick sailor in the house. Of course, she wanted to kick him out, but I convinced her to let him stay in the basement. She'll be furious if the other boarders discover him. It's already hard enough to let rooms in a town overwhelmed by a plague.” \n\n“And why are you not afraid like everyone else?” I ask her, still doubtful or her motives.\n\nShe motions me toward the basement door before beginning her answer.\n\n“I first starting nursing people back when everyone believed us blacks couldn't get the disease. Even though I know now that isn't true, I had a hard time turning my back on these poor afflicted folks. I mean, look at him,” she gestures toward the sailor dangling limply between us, “He's more helpless than a newborn. Just doesn't seem right how some people abandon 'em completely.”\n\n“But you said yourself, no one is immune. You're putting yourself at quite a risk.”\n\n“I'm in no hurry to die, if that's what you're asking. But I've got two boys to provide for and this here is a job no one seems to want to do.”\n\n“Ah ha!” I say, now that her venal motives are revealed. “So you charge 'these poor afflicted folks.' Handsomely, too, I suspect.” \n\nWe have managed to get the man inside the basement apartment and now set him down gently on his makeshift bed. When we're through, I see the woman giving me a fierce and unexpectedly defiant look.\n\n“I didn't ask for and don't expect you to understand,” she says.\n\n“Oh, I understand, all right. I understand vulgar extortion when I see it!”\n\n“And I suppose you perform your labor for free?” She pauses and looks me up and down, “Or maybe a gentleman like you's just born with so much money that you don't have to work like the rest of us” she retorts. \n\n“I'll have you know I lost my husband to the fever not two weeks ago,” she continues, “I know full well how these people suffer. I have no desire to take advantage of the sick or their families during such a time of suffering, but I'm in no position to run a charity. So yes, I //vulgarly// accept payment from those who will offer it.”\n\nShe begins to pour out water for the still-unconscious sailor, but pauses to berate me further. “Just because there are some nurses who stand before the sick and refuse to offer them aid until they agree to pay exorbitant fees, doesn't mean we're all like that. You better leave now before you get your delicate hands dirty working with a //vulgar// person like myself!”\n\nI am quite shocked by her indignant outburst. It is possible that I perhaps judged her too harshly. As a means of apology, I offer up my services as a healer, but she appears to be thoroughly unmoved by my generosity.\n\n“No wonder you think I'm a thief,” she say, shaking her head in disbelief. “Everybody knows doctors'll rob the blind and their medicines'll make a person sicker than the disease. You get on out of here and let me and this poor dying man alone!”\n\nShe picks up a dirty old broom and chases me out of the apartment. No sooner do I set foot outside, but she closes the door and latches the bolt. \n\nI suppose I must consider myself thoroughly reprimanded. I had thought that we physicians would be a welcome presence in any home given the circumstances, but it would seem that not everyone is convinced of our utility. \n\nMoreover, it seems that I, too, am guilty of doubting the utility of others. Although there are those who have taken advantage of our city's crisis to enrich themselves from the troubles of others, it would seem that I had overlooked the possibility that many who remain in service to this city do so neither for riches nor for lofty ideals. Instead they labor under an ethos of mutual benefit. \n\nIt is a peculiar notion to me, I admit, but it might behoove me to treat such people with a bit more kindness than I did tonight. After all, I am certain that they are not the ones to be feared should this epidemic grow worse in [[the coming days|choke_2]].
but I am stopped as I cross Water Street by a somewhat ragged looking young lad. He looks to be about the same age as my eldest son, John, Jr., who is now seven years of age. But that is where any similarity ends. This dirty youth's beady dark eyes can barely be seen from under his heavy brow, and his stubby, wide nose sits a little left of center on his sallow face.\n\n<html> <div class = "image"> <img id="seedyboy" src="/images/issues/2/2/fever/seedyBoy.png" /> <p class = "caption">A scamp stares at me.</p> </div> </html>\nThe boy stares at me, slackjawed and dull.\n\n“Well, speak up, boy? What do you want?”\n\nHe does not respond immediately. I begin to wonder if the boy is deaf or possibly an imbecile. I begin to move past the little street rat when at last a few words stumble out of his thick lips, “Dr. Rush?”\n\n“I am not. What business might you have with the good doctor, child?”\n\nAfter a long pause, the child finally replies, “My ma asked me to send for Dr. Rush. She's sick.”\n\n“I have just seen the good doctor, boy, and he is quite busy,” I inform him. “Surely you do not need to trouble such an eminent physician as Dr. Rush with your mother's illness.”\n\nThe boy looks undecided about what to say next. I could tell him that I, too, am a physician and [[offer myself in Dr. Rush's place|boy_patient_1]]. Then again, this little ragamuffin could be a ne'er-do-well. I've seen pickpockets half his age roaming our city streets before. I've half a mind to [[chase him off|boy_refuse]] for thinking me an easy mark.\n
<<set $badinvestigator = 'false'>>I cannot help but feel unsettled by this man's words. The symptoms he describes seem unlike any of the typical ailments in our city, and it is always cause for concern when adults who should be in the full bloom of health are carried off with such swiftness.\n\nI do have other obligations to fulfill, but I feel that I must make a quick diversion to the library at the College of Physicians. Making haste, I fly to the library. There I find not only the usual cluster of medical students furiously taking notes, but several practicing physicians, including the estimable Dr. Hutchinson, having a hushed conversation.\n\n[[Consult some books on infectious disease.|books]]\n[[Eavesdrop on the physicians' conversation.|eavesdrop]]
My time here is limited, so I must make every moment here count. I immediately head to the far end of the library where a few well regarded texts on fevers reside. I am hoping to see if I can find anything matching the description given by the bereaved brother.\n\nI start with Dr. John Walton's “Essay on Fevers.”\n\nFlip, flip, flip...\n\nI clear my throat.\n\nFlip, flip, flip...\n\nThe dustiness of the place makes me sneeze.\n\nFlip, flip, flip...\n\nNothing there. Perhaps Dr. Lind's //On the Diseases Incidental to Europeans in Hot Climates//?\n\nFlip, flip, flip...\n\nA shaft of sunlight falls across the pages of the voluminous tome. \n\nWait, what time is it now? Oh dear, it is already late afternoon and I've found nothing of use in this text. I must go and finish my calls for the day. Perhaps I will find an opportunity to return later.\n\nFor the time being now, I shall simply have to trust in physician's instincts and [[go about my regular business.|choke_1]]
<<set $ending[19] = 'true'>><<set $currentEnd=19>>\s\n<center><span class="chpt-heading">Epilogue:<br>A Lingering Mystery</span></center>\n\nOctober 27, 1793 <<set $date="October 27, 1793">>\n\nFew in our city who came as close to death as I did have lived to tell the tale. And yet, after the loss of Matthew and Louisa, I cannot bring myself to say I am a lucky man.\n\nI have a vague recollection of collapsing in the street, but little memory of what followed. From what I was told, the man with the dead took me to a nearby Quaker meeting house. I was delirious with fever and thirst, but they nursed me back to health. When I had recovered sufficiently, I was reunited with my wife and John, Jr.\n\nNow, finally, a significant cooling of the weather this last week seems to have finally brought about an end to the wretched yellow fever. Why this is so, I cannot guess, but it is with mixed feelings that I contemplate the fever's departure. Of course, it brings me great joy to know that we no longer have to suffer in fear from this terrible affliction. At last our city's dead can be properly mourned and laid to rest. \n\nAt the same time, however, this yellow fever remains a great mystery. I wish that I had learned more about it while it was here so that I might be better able to protect my family should this terrible fever ever return. \n\n\nTHE END.\n----\n<<display 'ending tracker'>>
I can no longer deny the very real possibility that I might not live to see the end of this epidemic. I must make certain that my affairs are in order.\n\nThere are but few lawyers who remain in this city, and I suspect it will not be easy to find one to help me draw up my last will and testament. If I recall, the small law office of Castle & Agar seemed to be conducting business when I passed by last week. I guess it is a place to start.\n\nThe streets are a sorry sight these days. The carters work hard to keep the bodies of the dead off the street, but there are often too few wagons available to collect the number of dead.\n\nWhen the almshouses began turning away those with even the slightest signs of infection, the poor, diseased wretches would all too often simply die on the street. There are fewer these days, due to so many having been carried off already, but today I find a body stretched out on the middle of Arch street. By all appearances, it has been lying there for several days.\n\nThe rotting corpse proves to be the only human I see on the journey to the office of Castle & Agar, so desolate are the streets these days. Much to my chagrin, it seems that the law office is also desolate. A small sign posted on the door informs me that Messrs. Agar and Castle have both succumbed to the fever and their offices shall remain closed indefinitely.\n\nI am beginning to despair. I was a fool to wait until now to try and put my affairs in order. I want to [[continue looking for a lawyer|law_dropdead]], but my strength is giving out. If I don't want to die in the street, perhaps [[I should return home|home_dropdead]].
Although it is impossible to deny now that this fever is a thing to be feared, I will not run from it, not while the city is in need. Even if I feel ill-equipped to fight this disease, I am finding that there is no shortage of patients requesting my services, and I must do my best to treat them.\n\n<<if $badinvestigator eq 'true'>>I have only just decided to stay, and yet almost instantly there is a knock at my door. The priest of Old St. Joseph's Church has stopped by to ask me to pay a visit to Willing's Alley between Third and Fourth Streets. He tells me that the area has been hit particularly hard by the fever.\n\nI suppose that there is no better way to test my resolve to stay than by flinging myself headlong into the fray, and it sounds like Willing's Alley is going to be a most challenging battleground in the fight against this fever. I agree to go with the priest.\n\n<<display 'wildman'>>\n<<else>>And yet I feel that I still know so very little about the nature of this disease, save for its dreadful mortality rate. I simply cannot perform my obligations as a healer if I do not know about the enemy that I face.\n\n<<display 'physicians_1'>>\n<<endif>>
<center><span class="chpt-heading">Your Progress</span></center>\n<h3>You have unlocked the following badges:</h3>\n<<achievements>>\n<<endings>>\n\n<p><<back>></p>
Every breath brings a new twinge of pain to my sides, but I cannot stop gulping for air. My legs burn and yet the continue to move forward, automatically, in spite of my pain.\n\nI must get back to [[the children...|fire]]
<<set $errandboy = 'true'>>\s\nI assure the enfeebled man that I will send someone to his apartment to check on his boy. \n\n“Can you not go yourself?” he asks me.\n\n“I assure you, I will set a responsible person to the task,” I reply.\n\nHe does not complain further, but I can see he is disappointed. While I can certainly understand his concern, I do not know why he would think that physicians like myself have any time to spare while we are in the midst of an epidemic.\n\nFortunately, I know a very agreeable errand boy in the city who continues his business despite the current chaos. I will commission him to check on Mr. Cook's grandson as soon as I get back into town.\n\nBut for now, I must [[continue|choke_2]] with my new responsibilities here Bush Hill.
<center><span class="chpt-heading">Chapter 3: <br>A City in Ruins</span></center>\n\nOctober 9, 1793<<set $date="October 9, 1793">>\n\nThe strange, thin man who lured me into his house to care for his family has since fled the city. His wife did not survive, but children made a full recovery. As soon as they were strong enough to travel, they departed the city for the countryside.\n\nAlthough I was handsomely rewarded for my services, just as the man had promised, I dare say it was not enough. My dear boy John, Jr. succumbed to the fever within just a few days of being in their home.\n\nThe only good that has come to pass in this city lately is the recent ceasation of the church bells. They used to toll both day and night, so plentiful are the deaths from fever. But now they stand silent not because they deaths are fewer, but because all normal discourse in the city has ground to a halt in the hopes of preventing the fever's further spread. \n\nIf I am to be honest, the silence is a relief. For a time, those bells only served to bring terror to the living, and hopelessness to the sick and in despair. At the same time, however, the silence is a grim admission of defeat.\n\n<<display 'jjdead'>>
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I ask Sarah to summon a carriage to take me to Bush Hill. \n\nI see the expression of horror that crosses her face. “You have the fever?” she gasps.\n\nI turn away, unable to bear her scrutiny. I know all too well that if I die, she will bear the burden of raising our children alone.\n\n“Sarah, there is no time to waste. You must summon a carriage now if I'm to have any chance.”\n\nShe takes my hand in hers and lingers a moment before rushing outdoors to find a driver.\n\nI do not wish to be parted from my family, but I have seen how quickly this fever can strike its victims down. It would not be wise to delay now that I can no longer deny being afflicted. \n\nNow that I am facing the prospect personally, I wonder whether it is preferable to be carried off quickly or to face the slow, lingering death that this cruel fever can also produce.\n\nSarah's return interrupts my thoughts, “We must hurry, John. The carriage is waiting but he won't wait for long.”\n\nI feel as though my feet are leaden, but Sarah proves to be incredibly strong. She half pushes, half drags me to the door in spite of my weakness. \n\nMy head is to be spinning now. I hardly know which direction I am moving in. I feel Sarah give me a mighty shove and suddenly I am flung headlong into the carriage. She slams the door and my carriage jolts forward.\n\nA great weariness suddenly overcomes me. I should have liked to say goodbye, knowing that I may never see her again. At least I can still see her face when I close my eyes.\n\n<<display 'feverdeath_end'>>
I must decide what to do, and quickly. Sarah doesn't have much time.\n\n<span class="choice1">[[Take Sarah to Bush Hill.|wife_bush]]</span>\n<span class="choice2">[[Begin treating her immediately.|wife_rush]]</span>\n\n<<timedgoto "what_now" 4s >>
On my walk home, I cannot help but ruminate on the disappointing conclusion to this evening's gathering. Not only did we fail to reach any satisfactory answers about this yellow fever, but to see this vicious squabbling among such learned and accomplished men was truly a tragedy, especially in these trying times. It looks as though I shall be on my own in trying to decide how to treat this fever. But at least I now know more about its prevailing characteristics.\n\nIt is late when I arrive home, and I am surprised to see a lamp still lit in the children's bedroom. I enter the room only to see Sarah stooped down over John, Jr.\n\nThe boy looks pale, his eyes watery and lips dry.\n\n“What's going on?” I ask.\n\n“Oh John,” Sarah replies, “little John has felt poorly ever since he returned from the wharves.” \n\n“No! Let me see the boy,” I say, hoping it is not true.\n\nBut it is true. His pulse is weak and his skin warm to the touch. I ask how he feels and he tells me his head aches terribly. What am I to do? My beloved son, sick with the yellow fever!\n \nWas it my fault? //I// sent him to the wharves to find Dr. Hutchinson. No, that cannot be how he contracted the illness... But how else? Maybe I brought the sickness into the house after having so much contact with the sick? \n\nMy God, it seems no matter how I consider it, I may have brought this dreadful scourge upon my own child. I must save him. [[I must!|choke_2]]
The sun has slipped below the horizon and the streets are rapidly becoming dark. I am starting to regret having agreed to make this detour before returning home, but it was hard to refuse the old man's request.\n\nI at last reach the small living quarters on Water Street and begin to search for Mr. Cook's grandson. Usually I would imagine a building like this one would be full of motion and sound with tenants coming in from a hard day's labor or going for drink and entertainment. \n\nBut tonight the building is nearly silent. Were it not for the occasional creek of a rotting wooden floorboard behind closed doors, I would wonder if the whole building were deserted. I doubt I will get any help from the neighbors tonight in tracking down the younger Cook. \n\nI look for the room Mr. Cook has sent me to find. Although there are neither names nor numbers on any of the doors, I believe I have found the apartment the old man described. I knock on the door. But there is no answer.\n\nPerhaps the boy is with neighbors. Or maybe he has gone out in search of food or company elsewhere. The grandfather himself was uncertain of the young man's routine now that he was alone. \n\nI knock again. Still no answer. I believe I hear a faint sound, like someone coughing, just inside the door, but it is only for a moment.\n\nShort of [[forcing the door|force-door]], there really is nothing more I can do here. I should [[leave|leave]].
<<set $bushhillme ='true'>>\s\n<html> <div class = "image"> <img id="bushhill" src="/images/issues/2/2/fever/bushHill.png" /> <p class = "caption">The estate at Bush Hill.</p> </div> </html>\nBush Hill is a large manor estate northwest of the city that has been appropriated for the care of yellow fever victims. The estate's location outside the city center both protects any uninfected city residents from the putrid exhalations of the sick, while also offering fever victims themselves a respite from the oppressive, miasmatic airs of the city.\n\nThe temporary hospital was established at the start of the epidemic, but it has only come to my attention of late as it has been recently placed under the stewardship of one of our city's most esteemed merchants, Mr. Stephen Girard. \n\nI hope that I will find him an eager recipient of my knowledge about a treatment.\n\n<html><div class = "image"><img src="/images/issues/2/2/fever/ellipsis.png" /></div></html>\nAfter a lengthy carriage ride, I arrive at the doorstep of Bush Hill. I had expected the place to be chaotic, but I am surprised and impressed by the orderliness of the hospital.\n\nI have but little time to waste. I attempt to gain the attention of a nearby nurse, but she brushes past me in a rush, barely acknowledging my presence.\n\nNot to be discouraged, I try again to announce myself, this time as a male attendant passes through the hall. He, too, seems indifferent to me. \n\nHe rushes to the bedside of a man who has begun vomiting up the now familiar, but indescribably repulsive, black discharge that is characteristic of this disease. How the attendant manages not to flinch at the horrid, spasmodic evacuations of the wretched man, I do not know.\n\nTurning away, I make my way down the hall and finally manage to command the attention of a nurse by forcibly grabbing her arm.\n\n“I understand that Mr. Stephen Girard is in charge here. I must speak with him immediately.”\n\n“What do you think you're doing?” she asks, a flash of anger in her eyes.\n\n[[Let her go.|girard_rebuffed]]\n[[Insist on an answer first.|persist]]
I knock on the door and am quickly ushered in to the doctor's home. The interior of the house is bustling with activity. Patients of all stages of the fever seem to fill every nook and cranny of the home, and I see several of Dr. Rush's assistants, covered in blood-stained garments, moving swiftly throughout the building. \n\nI have to wait a good half hour before Dr. Rush can find the time to pry himself away from his patients. He looks weak, but I can see a fire burning in his eyes.\n\n“I have discovered how to defeat this thing!” Dr. Rush proclaims. \n\n<html> <div class = "image"> <img id="rushagain" src="/images/issues/2/2/fever/rush2.png" /> <p class = "caption">Dr. Rush looks at me with a fire burning in his eyes.</p> </div> </html>\nI find myself momentarily speechless by his dramatic revelation, but fortunately, the good doctor is not at a similar loss for words.\n\n“I was too cautious at first,” he continues. “My patients died because of my hesitation. I thought a conventional bleeding would effect a cure, but I was wrong.”\n\n“But if bleeding is no use, then dare I ask why your assistants' clothing is stained so?” I ask, at last able to find my tongue.\n\n“Ah, I didn't say bleeding was of no use,” Rush responds with an enigmatic grin. “Bleeding is essential. And I am living proof of that!”\n\n“What do you mean? Have you suffered the yellow fever?” I ask him.\n\n“Suffered and survived!” he says. “The mistake is not in the bleeding, but in the timing of it! We must wait for the disease to turn before the bleedings are administered.”\n\n“Wait for the disease to turn? I am not certain I follow you, Dr. Rush.” I am as eager anyone to find a cure for this terrible visitation, but as I struggle to understand Dr. Rush's explanation, I cannot help but wonder if the fever may have affected his brain.\n\nDr. Rush seems to read my thoughts. “My apologies. I am letting my excitement get the best of me. Let me try to be more clear: purgatives, Dr. Brooks! Purgatives must come first. At least three doses, at least 10 grams of jalop and 10 grams of calomel in each dose.”\n\n“Dr. Rush, I believe I have misheard you.” I know well how useful purgatives can be in quieting many an illness, but 60 grams? “At that dose, the evacuations would surely be worse than the fever itself.”\n\n“And now you are making the same mistake I once did. Yes, Dr. Brooks, at least 60 grams, to be applied //without reservation//, until at least four or five large evacuations have been produced. The purgatives themselves are often enough by themselves to bring about a cure. But, to be safe, it is best to use the purgatives in conjunction with blood-letting in order to remove excess of stimulus from the system. It is this overstimulation that makes this disease fatal to its victims.”\n\nOnce again I find myself at a loss for words. I respect my mentor greatly, but I don't see how I can share his confidence about such an aggressive therapy. Still, if he is right, many people could be saved from death by yellow fever.\n\nI thank Dr. Rush for his time and insight and make ready my departure. \n\n“Here,” he says, thrusting a small box in my hands. “As you can see, I already have all the patients I can handle. Take these pills with you and head to the docks. That area is the epicenter of this epidemic, and there are a great many of the infected who need a physician's care. Bring them my cure. //Save them!//”\n\nI look at the box of powerful purgatives. Dr. Rush is convinced that they are the key to stopping this fever, of that there can be no doubt. But I am not so certain.\n\nAt this moment, however, there is no arguing with the man. Dr. Rush practically pushes me out the front door and in the direction of the waterfront. I follow Walnut Street to [[the docks|to_the_docks]].\n\n\n\n
<<if $badinvestigator eq "false">>I blame myself for what happened to Sarah. If only I hadn't been so careless with my soiled clothing, maybe she...\n\n<<endif>><<if $homeremedy eq 'true'>><<display "wife_dead_home">>\n<<else if $rushremedy eq 'true'>><<display "wife_dead_rush">><<endif>>\n<<set $paths[7]='true'>>
<<set $hutchinson_met = 'true'>>\s\nAlthough I came with the intention of consulting the books here, the unexpected presence of other physicians makes me think that there is, in fact, something going on in our city which I have been blithely unaware of. It may not be particularly gentlemanly, but I believe I may find the information I'm looking for by listening in on their conversation.\n\nI move closer to Dr. Hutchinson and his companion and listen as I try to look occupied with a nearby text on materia medica. I cannot catch every word, but I hear enough to know that there is trouble brewing in our city.\n\n<html>“</html>Dr. Rush believes there is an epidemic,<html>”</html> I hear the short physician say.\n\n<html>“</html>Dr. Rush is arrogant and jumps to conclusions far too readily.<html>”</html> is Dr. Hutchinson's sharp reply.\n\nI am having trouble making out his companion's reply, but I'm certain I hear <html>“</html>Even so, I have seen... the docks... frightful...<html>”</html>\n\nI edge closer.\n\n<html>“</html>Acting prematurely would merely incite panic. We need facts.<html>”</html>\n\n<html>“</html>But surely we ought to begin taking some kind of action.<html>”</html>\n\n<html>“</html>And what would you recommend? The fools with their... apt to set the whole city ablaze.<html>”</html> If only I could hear more of Dr. Hutchinson's response.\n\nI edge even closer, but clumsily. I knock a large book off the desk and it falls to the ground with a frighteningly loud thud.\n\nDr. Hutchinson and his companion glare at me. It would seem they are not pleased at the prospect of having been overheard. I would explain that I am a physician, too, but Dr. Hutchinson is already out the door before I can utter a word. The other physician looks at me for a moment as though he would speak, but chases quickly after Dr. Hutchinson instead.\n\nI wish that I might have learned more, but the bits that I've heard seem to confirm that something is indeed afoot. Is there really an epidemic in progress? Is it confined to the docks, or has it spread? And what can we possibly do about it?\n\nI have more questions now than when I came, and yet no more resources at the moment for answering them. I shall have to pay close attention in [[the coming days|choke_1]] to any further reports of this mysterious illness.\n
Many thanks go out to the following people for patiently listening to me talk about this story for the umpteen millionth time and for their editorial insights when I ocassionally lost my way: Christine Colburn, Tim Cornell, [[Dana Rovang|https://twitter.com/@DanaRovang]], Jessica Seidman, and [[Cecelia Watson|https://twitter.com/@CeceliaAWatson]].\n\nI am also abundantly grateful to Christopher Heaney and Brian Jones of //The Appendix// for taking a chance on this crazy experimental story and helping me turn it into a reality.\n\nAnd last but not least, I want to say thank you to my parents. Despite my lifelong affliction of chronic weirdness, they persist in being a source of endless support and encouragement.
“The only epidemic I see in this city, Mr. Brewster, is an epidemic of fear. This woman seems to have a fairly common remitting fever, and looks as though she should make a full recovery.”\n\n“Will you see our clerk now?” Mr. Brewster asks.\n\nI tell Mr. Brewster that I suspect that the clerk was probably overwhelmed by heat and an unhealthy excitement over the rumors of disease. \n\n“Although I will not categorically refuse to make an examination,” I explain, “I do fear that my attendance on the excitable clerk would only further fuel his irrational fears. The damage of my presence might to more to harm him than any actual miasma. Will you insist I see him?”\n\nMr. Brewster looks at me somberly, as though he is debating whether or not to challenge my assessment. At last he heaves a great sigh and says, “I do hope you are correct, Dr. Brooks. Thank you for stopping by.”\n\nWe shake hands, and I depart to attend to my other patients.\n\nI know he is disappointed, but he would be wrong to underestimate just how dread and deadly a contagion fear can be. I am confident that [[in the coming days|choke_1]] my caution in this matter shall be vindicated.\n<<set $badinvestigator = "true">>\n<<set $track="1">>
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I order a pint of cider and try to eavesdrop on the sailor's conversation. They talk a bit about some rough weather they encountered on their last voyage.\n<<set $drink = 1>>\n[[Have another.|drunk]]\n[[Leave.|patients]]
<<if $flirt eq "true">>Mr. Brewster receives me with considerably less warmth than his daughter. He appears to be greatly agitated by the events taking place under his roof. He confirms the situation is just as the young woman had explained: their housemaid remains ill, and they have not yet had the opportunity to send for a physician to see the clerk.<<else if $meetpru eq "true" && $flirt eq "false">>Mr. Brewster receives me with much gratefulness. He confirms the situation is just as the young woman had explained: their housemaid remains ill, and they have not yet had the opportunity to send for a physician to see the clerk.<<else>>Although he was not expecting me, Mr. Brewster receives me with much gratefulness. It turns out that not only has one of the housemaids been ill for several days now, but also one of the textile store's clerks has been taken by a fainting spell just moments ago.\n\nThe ill housemaid was attended to by another physician yesterday, but her condition continues to trouble him. The clerk's illness, however, only became apparent this morning when he fainted while working in the store.<<endif>>\n\nThey have taken the clerk to a small guest room in the apartment, while the maid is resting in her quarters. Who should I attend to first?\n\n[[See the sick servant.|sickservant]]\n[[Attend first to the fainting clerk.|faintingclerk]] \n
<<set $meetpru = "true">>\s\n“How has it come to pass that you are working the store today?” I ask the young lady. Mr. Brewster has taken the education of his daughters quite seriously, and she is the last person I expect to see behind the store counter.\n\nShe is yet unmarried, which I find to be a bit of an oddity. I can only wonder as to why Mr. Brewster would indulge his strong-willed daughter in letting her remain unwed for so long. I am struck by how distinctly out of place this woman of such charm and stature looks standing amidst the bolts of fabric and spools of garish ribbons. \n\n“Where are the regular clerks?” I ask her, unable to contain my impolite curiosity.\n\nMiss Brewster's face sinks at my query. “Oh, it's just terrible! Mr. Berry was minding the store this morning when he suddenly fainted. We rushed him upstairs as soon as he was discovered. He could barely stand, and his complexion was so strange. We're all dreadfully worried about him. Please say you'll attend to him.”\n\n“Yes of course—”, but she doesn't let me finish.\n\n“And then our housemaid is still sick, even though we sent for a physician just the other day. I feel as though a plague were descending upon us.”\n\n“I assure you,” I say, “that I will get to the bottom of this. After all, it is entirely possible the two illnesses are unrelated.”\n\n“Yes, I supposed you are right. I just, I have a bad feeling about all of this. It's as though a curse has been placed on our house, or maybe it's the whole city that's cursed...”\n\nI can see that she would like to go on, but I don't want to abide her indulgence in speculation and superstition. Interrupting, I remark, “While feelings have their place in the home and in the arts, medicine, Miss Brewster, is a science. You'll have to forgive me if I prefer to conduct an empirical investigation rather than rely on mere intuition.”\n\nShe falls silent at my reply. Perhaps I should take the opportunity to now [[go upstairs|upstairs]]. The look of hardness on her face suggests that my rebuff may have been a bit too firm, however. I could try being [[more gentle|soften]] before I leave.
[[Title page|Start]]\n[[How to play|how-to]]\n[[See your progress|progress]]\n[[About the history|history]]\n[[References|references]]\n[[Acknowledgments|acknowledgments]]\n[[Start over|Intro]]\n
----\n<<set $ending[15] = 'true'>><<set $currentEnd=15>>\nDr. Brooks closed his eyes for the last time on <<print $date>>. His valiant efforts to treat his fellow Philadelphians cannot be said to have been in vain, but they did ultimately cost him his life, when he met a violent end at the hands of an aggrieved and deranged mother.\n\n\nTHE END.\n----\n<<set $paths[18]="true">>\n<<display 'ending tracker'>>
track1 = brewsters\ntrack2 = dirty boy\ntrack3 = patients/indifference\ntrack4 = wife dies\ntrack5 = I'm dying\ntrack6 = jj dying\ntrack7 = death house\ntrack8 = dirty boy/tout cure/baby matthew dead\n//track9 = pierce family\ntrack10 = brew track, wife lives
<<set $badinvestigator = "true">>\s\nAlthough the symptoms the man described are unfamiliar to me, it is not uncommon for those in the throes of grief to exaggerate and misconstrue the final moments of their loved ones. I suspect that there is nothing at all mysterious about the illness that led to this woman's passing, but it seems that the neighbors are already working themselves into a phrenzy imagining countless phantasmagoric causes.\n\nI wish to have no part in such wild speculation, and I decide that the best course of action is for me to continue visiting my patients as scheduled. I feel certain that time will prove there to be nothing remarkable about this incident.\n\n[[I shall go about my regular routine.|choke_1]]
“Miss Brewster, I am terribly sorry—”\n\nThe words catch in my throat. I cannot look the frantic young lady in the eye and refuse her and her family my medical services.\n\nI realize now I ought never have made that promise to Sarah. But I shall have to beg forgiveness later...\n\n“Miss Brewster, I am terribly sorry I did not take it upon myself to call on your family sooner. Yes, I shall go to your house straightaway.”\n\n<<display 'to_brewster'>>
It would be foolish to let fear get the best of me. Dr. Rush is a wise man, no doubt, but I think he is being quite premature in advising others to flee in panic from the city. \n\nShould the worst come to pass, I will feel safer having my family under my own watchful eye rather than possibly suffering illness under the care of strangers. The time for flight may come eventually, but now is not the moment to be sending my wife and the children to travel alone into adventures unknown.\n\nNow, although I am curious to know more about this fever, I do have patients who are expecting my attention today. If I am going to remain in the city, I should not spend this time neglecting my patients. Off I go!\n\n<<display 'patients'>>
<<if $rush_questions lt 2>>\s\n<<if $ask_bad eq"false">>[[Ask him how bad he thinks it will be.]]<<endif>>\n<<if $ask_treat eq "false">>[[Ask him how to treat the disease.]]<<endif>>\n<<if $ask_avoid eq "false">>[[Ask him how to avoid falling ill.]]<<endif>>\n<<else>> I still have more questions, but I can see that [[I must let the doctor depart.|rush_depart]]\n<<endif>>
<<set $badges[12] = 'true'>><<popup 12>><<save>>\s\nI enjoy my coffee for another thirty minutes and gossip a little about how the drought is apt to affect wheat harvests this year, but no news is to be had about the fever. \n\nI must [[move on|patients]].
Sarah has not spoken a single word to me since the death of our two youngest children. I have tried time and again to comfort her in her grief, but I have had very little success in reaching her. I had hoped that in time, her mind would recover from the horrible shock of Matthew and Louisa's death, but now I can no longer afford to be patient.\n\nI can barely stand, but I stagger down the stairs and find Sarah sitting silently at the kitchen table. Gently, I take her by the hand and ask her to summon a carriage for me. \n\nAt my words, she looks up from her reverie, but she doesn't say a word.\n\n“Please Sarah, I have the fever and I need to go to Bush Hill right away.” I look into her eyes, searching for some sign that she hears and understands what I'm saying.\n\nAll I see in her eyes in emptiness.\n\nAgain, I ask her to summon a carriage. I plead with her and try to impress upon her the urgency of my situation. But it is to no avail. I fear that she may be permanently deranged by our family's tragedy. \n\nI would ask John, Jr. to summon a carriage, but since his siblings' deaths, he has not spent much time at the house. Maybe it is his own way of dealing with grief, or maybe he simply cannot bear to see his mother in her current condition.\n\nWhatever the reason, the fact of the matter is that I am, for all intents and purposes, alone now. I shall have to muster the strength to summon a carriage myself.\n\nI feel so very lightheaded as I stumble outside. I force myself not to look at the makeshift coffins and shrouded bodies piled up and down the street.\n\nThere are no carriages to be seen anywhere. \n\nI try to walk to the street corner, hoping for a better chance that some traveler will come by, but every step forward is a trial. My throat burns with thirst now. I feel a sudden trickle of moisture on my lips and instinctively lick at it.\n\nBlood.\n\n[[I cannot walk any further...|extraunhappy_end]]
Maybe it would be best to take her to the Bush Hill hospital. The patients there were as comfortable as circumstances would allow. Surely, her chances might be better there, under the care of nurses and physicians who had seen more cases of the fever than I. Yes, I shall take her to Bush Hill!\n\nAll I must do is find a carriage to take us there. Lifting Sarah into my arms, I charge out into the street. I am distressed to find no carriages seem to be about. Wait—is that one, just around the corner?\n\nIt is a cab! What relief! But—he's driving away!\n\n“Come back, man. I need a carriage, right away!”\n\nBut the driver only shakes his head and bids the horse go faster. What is wrong with him? Can he not see the condition my wife is in?\n\nSarah seems to be quickly fading. She vomits the foul, black vomit characteristic of this disease. Her skin is hot and sallow. She is not long for this world, I am certain.\n\nI must get her to the hospital, but how? Just down the street, I can hear the shrill, chilling cry, “Bring out your dead!” It is of one of the collectors with his cart, sent to take fever victims to the Potter's Field. \n\n“Sir! Please, please help me get my wife to the hospital.”\n\nThe man just stares at me, but I will not be deterred. \n\n“She is ill and no one is willing to brave the fever. Please, good man, divert from your route and I will pay handsomely.”\n\n“I can't just leave these bodies,” he objects.\n\nThat means we'd have to ride... Oh, no! It is too wretched, too unbearable to even consider. \n\nBut Sarah cannot even stand. I have no choice. Oh, God in Heaven help me for what I must do now!\n\n“We'll ride with the bodies. Just make haste, good fellow.”\n\nOh the foulness of the bodies! Even though most are wrapped in some kind of loose shroud or another, the feeling of lifeless hands and feet beneath us is too horrible to describe. And the stench—I wonder how it is that the man collecting these foul, putrefying sacks does not retch constantly.\n\nBut far more horrifying than the bodies and their smell is my realization that Sarah is not aware of them at all. Can not this wagon [[go any faster|wife_bush2]]?\n
<<set $paths[15]='true'>>\s\nAs he does every day, John Jr. approaches me after breakfast with a long look on his pallid face. \n\n“Do you think it will ever end, father?” he asks me. His patience during this ordeal has been saintly, but I can clearly see the toll our confinement is having on the young lad. \n\nIf I were certain that staying in the house was truly keeping us safe from the fever, I would once again tell him to stay strong. But now with the baby sick, and knowing my own fatigue, I wonder if perhaps I am only guaranteeing the boy's sickness by keeping him inside. \n\n“John, you should go outside today. We've been in the dark for too long now. See if there's any news. Maybe the worse is over by now.”\n\nIt brings me a brief moment of happiness to see the expression of joy on little John's face. Although I still fear I may be exposing the boy to grave danger, I fear more that I've been nothing but a cruel tyrant keeping him and the rest of my family locked up these many weeks.\n\n[[I can only pray that he returns safely.|shut_in_survivors]]
<<set $track=2>>\s\nThe boy leads me up several flights of rickety stairs, and our journey terminates at last in a dirty, windowless room on the third floor. A woman lies on a heap of rags in a corner of the room.\n\nI try to approach her to examine her, but am stopped short by the foul stench emanating from her and her rag pile. The woman has vomited, multiple times, but has been unable to clean herself, leaving her a filthy, sweating heap of pestilence. I instruct the boy to fetch water immediately.\n\nI do my best to conceal my disgust as I begin examining the woman. I first take her pulse, which I find to be weak and rapid. She has a high fever, a terrible pain in her head, and great thirst. The boy returns with water and I try to offer the woman a drink. She takes the water with much eagerness, but she can barely swallow.\n\n“How long has she been like this?” I ask the boy.\n\nHe shrugs and stares at the ground. “Since my sister died, I suppose.”\n\n“When was that?” I ask the child, wishing he would be more forthcoming in his answers.\n\n“A day or two. She's under them sheets still.”\n\nHe points his stubby, dirt-encrusted finger to a dark corner of the room where another small heap of rags sits. Dare I look?\n\n[[Look.|look]]\n[[Don't.|nolook]]
<<set $track = 8>>\s\nI feel it would be remiss of me as a healer to conceal the knowledge of my success in Hell Town. If I spread the word about treatment by <<$dirtymethod>>, perhaps my success can be replicated.\n\nI shall immediately [[go to one of the presses|cure_presses]] that remains open and have them print word of my success! No, wait... maybe I would be better off simply applying my treatment to every patient I can find. I could [[go to the recently established fever hospital at Bush Hill|cure_bushhill]] and insist on treating patients there.
I can see I'll gain no advantage in trying to keep Sarah in the dark. I do hate to alarm her, but it is best that she know the truth. I tell her about my conversation with Dr. Rush and his advice that those who can should leave the city. Sarah immediately objects.\n\n“You cannot stay here alone,” she protests. “If we are at risk, then you are as well.”\n\n“I am a physician,” I say. “It would be terribly remiss of me to flee. But I cannot perform my duties with either a clear mind or a clear conscience if I knew you and the children were in substantial danger. Please, send your mother a note and leave right away.”\n\nI cannot bear the intense scrutiny of Sarah's eyes. I turn away, too pained by the prospect of separation to face her any longer. I turn my attention to the children. Gathering them around me, I kiss them all once upon the forehead and tell them that their mother has news for them. The children will undoubtedly be delighted at news of a trip to their grandparent's farm—it seems only fair that Sarah should get to be the one to tell them.\n\nBut Sarah does not seem to relish the task. She gives me a long, hard look before she speaks. \n\n“That's right, children. As soon as you are finished with your cleaning, we'll postpone our lessons today and take a trip to the confectioner's shop.”\n\nThe children are overjoyed at the news and scramble to finish their chores. I stare at Sarah in disbelief.\n\n“We're not separating, John. Your fate is our fate as well, whether you like it or not. If this plague is too dangerous to remain in the city, then we shall leave together. And if you insist on staying here to fight it, then we shall be at your side, ready to assist in any way we can. So what will it be?”\n\n[[Stay.|allstay_sarah]]\n[[Leave.|flee_sarah]]\n
I can see that the woman is desperately seeking some small sliver of hope. Although I fear I am not the man to give it to her, it would be remiss of me to turn her away without any aid at all. I may not be capable of restoring her child to health, but I am not in the fight against yellow fever alone. \n\nI apologize to the woman again and explain that I personally cannot attend to her sick child, but I give her the names of two other capable physicians and insist that she call on them. \n\nShe is reluctant to leave with only a slip of paper rather than a physician in tow, but I am at last able to persuade her that these gentlemen will provide her child with the best possible care.\n\nAs she leaves, it begins to sink: I have lost so much in this battle with the yellow fever. Not only have I lost my son, but now I am forsaking my calling as well. I do not know what the future holds for me and what remains of my family, but I know that [[my world shall never be the same|live_no_jj]].
Although I see the desperation in the woman's eyes, I know that I cannot help her. I am a broken man. How could I possibly hope to save her child when I could not save my own beloved son? It would be criminal of me to continue this charade any longer. I am no healer. I am no better than a charlatan selling useless nostrums and “magnetized” water to the foolish and the ignorant.\n\nWith a heavy heart, I explain to the woman that I am no longer in the business of healing. \n\nShe begs, a wildness creeping into her expression that is at once both haunting and frightening. I know I cannot help her child, but her expression chills me to the bone. Perhaps I can [[recommend another physician|broken_2]]? Or maybe [[I should go with the woman myself|murdered_1]]? I may not be able to do any good, but I cannot possibly harm the child in simply attending him. At the very least, I might be able to calm the frantic woman along the way.
Rachel N. Ponce
<<if $dirtycure eq "true">>The only ray of hope in these last few weeks has been the survival of the woman I treated in the filthy apartment in Hell Town. At the time, I felt I was only guessing in prescribing <<$dirtymethod>> for her fever, and yet somehow, she managed to survive the disease when so many others have succumbed. <<else>><<set $badges[10] = 'true'>><<popup 10>><<save>>\s\nI lost my first patient to the fever nearly three weeks ago. The woman from the filthy apartment in Hell Town lasted little more than a day before her skin yellowed and she was carried off by the mysterious fever with fearful swiftness.\n\nThe dirty boy who had brought me to the house was left with not a soul in the world to care for him. Although I am not in the habit of considering myself a charitable institution, I felt I had no choice but to take the boy in under my own roof. \n\nHappily, he has shown no signs of the disease, and despite my initial impression that he was a dull fellow, he seems to get along with my son John, Jr. quite well. He would not have been my first pick as a playfellow for John, but I am actually relieved that my son now has a friend to take his mind off the current chaos of the city.<<endif>>\n\nAt the moment, I feel uncertain about how best to apply my talents as a healer in these trying times. I have heard that [[there is a fever hospital|bushhill_1]] set up just outside of town. I do not know whether this place has had any success in treating the yellow fever, but there might be valuable knowledge to be gained from the workers there about the natural course of the illness.\n\nThen again, this impromptu hospital may in practice be nothing more than a charnel house, collecting and disposing of the bodies of the city's dead and soon-to-be. <<if $dirtycure eq "true">>As I was able to successfully combat the yellow fever in the case of the woman in Hell Town, I must consider the possibility that my technique could save lives. Should I not [[spread the word of my cure|tout_your_cure]]?<<else>>Although my skills have once proved useless in the face of this frightening new scourge, I have healed many in the course of my career. There are countless ill in this city, and they cry out for the attention of a physician. Perhaps I should stop doubting myself and [[continue treating them as best I can|eccentric_1]]. Perhaps I will find answers if I treat more cases.<<endif>>
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----\n<<set $ending[3] = 'true'>><<set $currentEnd=3>>\nDr. Brooks closed his eyes for the last time on <<print $date>>. His valiant efforts to treat his fellow Philadelphians cannot be said to have been in vain, but they did ultimately cost him his life when he met his unexpected end at the bottom of a pit of poisonous snakes.\n\n\nTHE END.\n----\n<<set $paths[10]='true'>>\n<<display 'ending tracker'>>
I suppose that if the Mayor is summoning me, I should not be so rude as to make him wait. Besides, even those who are sick at this very moment may benefit if I can learn something useful from the Mayor about how best to combat this disease. \n\nI beg the priest's pardon and agree to go with the thin man.\n\nHe looks relieved that I've agreed to come with him, and he sets off at a brisk pace that I find myself having difficulty keeping up with.\n\nI hasten to follow him, but after I few moments, I start to wonder if we are heading in the right direction.\n\n“I say, shouldn't we turn here? This is not the way to the Mayor's office.”\n\n“The what?” he says, looking confused.\n\n“Are we not going to see the Mayor,” I ask.\n\nHe looks at me blankly.\n\n“Oh, right. Yes. The Mayor,” he finally replies. “He's not in his office right now. Just come with me.”\n\nI have a very bad feeling about this.\n\n[[Escape.|escape]]\n[[Keep following.|keep_following]]
I cannot ignore my instincts any longer. The dark passageways and close spaces of Hell Town teem with danger, and I fear this boy has led me into a trap. \n\nWho knows what villainous knaves might be waiting inside that building to part me from my possessions, or even my life? I face enough danger as it is combating illness. I am not going to walk blindly into a lion's den.\n\nI tell the boy that he'll have to find someone else to come to his aid. This part of town isn't safe for a gentleman like myself. Just for good measure, I give the boy a stern reprimand for leading me into this human cesspool without stating his intentions right from the start.\n\n<<display 'colddead'>>
My efforts to sleep have been impeded by my incessant vomiting. The expulsions are a foul and putrid substance, black in color and of a thick and clotted texture. But I am relieved to say my thirst has diminished, even though at times I feel like my throat is barely open.\n\nI feel weak now, but my spirits are much lifted from earlier. I am sure that with just a bit of rest, I shall find myself safely carried through this crisis.\n\n[[Sleep.|feverdeath_end]]\n[[Don't sleep.|feverdeath_2]]\n
Although I could swear there's something of a devilish glint behind the boy's dull eyes, my conscience prevents me from walking away from the boy. He may be lacking in manners and grace, but his plea for help seems genuine. Besides, predatory as these little street urchins are these days, I highly doubt any would have the gall or the smarts to use Dr. Rush's name as part of their sham. \n\nI explain to the child that I am a physician and I will attend his mother. The boy stares dumbly at me for a minute more, and then begins leading the way.\n\nHe first leads me to east to Water Street and then turns north. As we pass by the docks, I am struck by the number of idle hands lingering by the wharves. Many seem to be refugees from Saint Domingue, recently delivered to our city after escaping the horrors that three years of war had brought to the French West Indies. I had known of the plight after making a donation earlier this month to a relief fund for these poor souls, but actually seeing entire shipfuls of gaunt and sickly-looking passengers arriving at our ports is an unexpected sight.\n\nMy time for gawking is cut short as now the boy turns us away from the docks and heads toward Elfreth's Alley. The narrow houses here cram an overwhelming amount of humanity into a tiny space. I feel my attention being pulled in every direction by the glassblowers, silversmiths and various small merchants, all plying their trades and hawking their wares. Darting to and fro between the tightly packed buildings are the sailors and dock laborers searching for cheap room and board among the bakers, schoolmistresses, and countless other free laborers who call this place their home. \n\nAlthough my head spins with all the bustling activity here, my thick-headed little companion trudges forward, seemingly unfazed. \n\nAs we tread nearer to the docks, more unsavory elements become visible. We are fast approaching Hell Town, where the city's most disreputable denizens are inclined to congregate. The boy appears to be taking me straight into the figurative lion's den. Prostitutes, fugitive slaves, and the entire gamut of ne'er-do-wells spend their time here merry-making in the numerous taverns and brothels.\n\nWe at last come to a narrow wooden building in a considerable state of disrepair. I can feel the piercing eyes of the neighbors and nearby indigents upon me. The boy beckons me to enter, but my suspicions are again aroused. Does this ragamuffin really need my help, or has he lured me here so that others might do me harm? \n\n[[Turn back.|turnback]] \n[[Continue following the child.|dirtymother]]\n\n\n
Her symptoms are typical enough of the disease, even if the patient herself is less so. But only a poor physician would be deceived by the disease's unusual presentation. I am confident that this is a straightforward case of an all-too-familiar enemy, scarlatina.\n\nIf the woman is to pull through, I must not be hesitant in the application of the appropriate materia medica. What should I prescribe? \n\n[[Venesection, to reduce inflammation.|scarlatina1]]\n[[Cinchona bark, to stop the febrile action.|scarlatina2]]\n[[Wild indigo, as an antiseptic and febrifuge.|scarlatina3]]
Could it really be? The ominous fever that my mentor described? I cannot be positive, knowing so little about this disease. But her symptoms trouble me. I must continue to monitor her.\n<<if $ask_treat eq "true">>\nDr. Rush mentioned bleeding. Should I try that? Then again, I seem to recall he mentioned purging as well.\n<<endif>> \nHmmm, what should I prescribe?\n[[Bleed.|allthesame][$dirtymethod='bleeding']]\n[[Purge.|allthesame][$dirtymethod='purging']]\n[[Bleed and purge.|allthesame][$dirtymethod='bleeding and purging']]\n[[Offer a mild stimulant.|allthesame][$dirtymethod='administering a stimulant']]
I must not allow myself to become overzealous in diagnosing this fever! The disease may prevail in the city, but I have no reason to yet believe that it prevails in my home. Although I find Sarah's fatigue troubling, there is not a soul currently residing in this city who is not afflicted with a weariness of soul, if not of body as well. \n\nUntil I see more definitive signs of the yellow fever, I must refrain from applying my materia medica before it is needed. I will do my wife no favors by intervening where there is no illness. In fact, I might do her great harm if I prescribe methods that upset the delicate balance of humors within a body that is in fact healthy.\n\nI impress upon Sarah the vital importance of apprising me of any change in her condition, no matter how small, or insignificant it may seem. \n\nAssured that Sarah's health is not at any immediate risk, I should like to visit the new hospital at [[Bush Hill|bushhill]] and see what they have established there for the care of many of the city's yellow fever victims.
<<if $track eq 8>><<display "almost_end">><<else>><<display "theend">><<endif>>
It is not a physician's place to antagonize his patient, and I can see that my inquiries into Mr. Berry's appearance have agitated him quite a bit.\n\nI attempt to change the subject by asking Mr. Berry if I might take his pulse. He consents to this, and I find his pulse to be full and quick. This, combined with his earlier faint, makes me think that his system would benefit from a gentle bleeding.\n\n<html> <div class = "image"> <img id="venesection" src="/images/issues/2/2/fever/venesection.png" /> <p class = "caption">Mr. Berry will benefit from a gentle bleeding.</p> </div> </html>\n\nI retrieve a lance from my bag and take several ounces of blood from Mr. Berry's arm. Although he is a bit squeamish during the letting itself, he seems to be much relieved by its effects. \n\nI instruct Mr. Brewster to keep the man from any excitement. I suspect that all this talk of fevers has simply made him overwrought. \n\nAt this point, I wonder if it is even worth my time to also [[visit the housemaid|sickservant2]]. It seems [[the only disease prevailing in this house is one of panic|fearnot2]], rather than a genuine malignance.
Sarah seems well enough for the time being. After all, I see no particular evidence of illness in her. And besides, I will do her no good if I should attempt to treat her uninformed. I decide to hasten myself to Bush Hill and see if I can learn more about their operations.\n\n<<display 'bushhill'>>
I sit in my study and stare blankly at the medical texts in front of me. I silently curse each and every one of them. How could they have failed me so completely in the face of this merciless scourge?\n\nMy dark meditations are interrupted by the sound of loud conversation downstairs. Strange, I am sure I did not hear anyone ring at the door. I had better go downstairs and see what the commotion is about.\n\nAs I enter the parlor room, I find an old woman, with a withered face and wild red hair flecked with grey, speaking animatedly to my wife. It seems she has come seeking my services as a healer. \n\nHer son is sick, she says. She needs a physician, but there are so few left in the city. Her eyes are wide and imploring, but I am so shaken from the loss of John Jr. I fear that [[I cannot trust in my abilities as healer and I must refuse her request|broken_1]]. And yet, I see that she, too, fears losing her child. Knowing all too well the grief she would suffer, [[perhaps I ought not turn my back on her|murdered_1]].
<html>\n <span class="opening">\n <img id="opening" src="/images/issues/2/2/fever/feverOpening.png">\n <h3>Surviving History:</h3>\n <h2>The Fever!</h2>\n <h3>by Rachel N. Ponce</h3>\n</span></html>\nThe year is 1793. In this story, you will take the role of a fictional physician, Dr. John Brooks, as he navigates a disaster of a kind not altogether uncommon in U.S. cities before the 20th century. As the story unfolds in Dr. Brooks's adopted home city of Philadelphia, he will be faced with many decisions—some seemingly mundane, some more obviously matters of life and death.\n\nHow Dr. Brooks fares will depend entirely on your decisions. Every choice has a consequence. Choose wisely.\n\n[[I'm ready to begin.|Prologue]] \n<<silently>>\n<<set $paths = []>>\n<<set $totalPaths = 19>>\n<<set $ending = []>>\n<<set $totalEndings = 20>>\n<<set $badges = []>>\n<<set $totalAchievements = 20>>\n<<load>>\n<<endsilently>>
!!!Primary sources\nMap of Historical Philadelphia: \n[[http://teachingamericanhistory.org/convention/map/|http://teachingamericanhistory.org/convention/map/]]\n\nMap of deaths from 1793 epidemic: \n[[http://philadelphiaencyclopedia.org/archive/yellow-fever/yellow-fever-1793-jpg/|ttp://philadelphiaencyclopedia.org/archive/yellow-fever/yellow-fever-1793-jpg/]]\n\nW. Birch, //Views of Philadelphia from 1800//:\n[[http://teachingamericanhistory.org/convention/birch/|http://teachingamericanhistory.org/convention/birch/]]\n\nMatthew Carey, //A short account of the malignant fever, lately prevalent in Philadelphia// (1793). \n[[http://pds.lib.harvard.edu/pds/view/7374219|http://pds.lib.harvard.edu/pds/view/7374219]]\n\nCharles Cotton, //The potent ally: or, Succours from Merryland. With three essays in praise of the cloathing of that country; and the story of Pandora's box. To which is added, Erotópolis, The present state of Bettyland// (1741).\n[[https://archive.org/details/potentallyorsucc00cott|https://archive.org/details/potentallyorsucc00cott]]\n\nJean Devèze, //An enquiry into, and observations upon the causes and effects of the epidemic disease, which raged in Philadelphia from the month of August till towards the middle of December, 1793// (1794). \n[[http://pds.lib.harvard.edu/pds/view/7374528?n=10|http://pds.lib.harvard.edu/pds/view/7374528?n=10]]\n\nJames Lind, //An essay on diseases incidental to Europeans, in hot climates// (1771).\n[[https://archive.org/details/2561034R.nlm.nih.gov|https://archive.org/details/2561034R.nlm.nih.gov]]\n\nJames D. McCabe, Jr., //Great Fortunes and How They Were Made, or, Struggles and Triumphs of our Self-Made Men// (1871). \n[[http://www.gutenberg.org/files/15161/15161-h/15161-h.htm|http://www.gutenberg.org/files/15161/15161-h/15161-h.htm]]\n\nBenjamin Rush, //Account of the Bilious Remitting Fever// (1794). [[http://books.google.com/books?id=crA_AAAAcAAJ|http://books.google.com/books?id=crA_AAAAcAAJ]]\n\nJohn Walton, //An essay on fevers, the rattles, & canker// (1732). [[https://archive.org/details/2576029R.nlm.nih.gov|https://archive.org/details/2576029R.nlm.nih.gov]]\n\n\n!!!Secondary works\n//Extracts from the Journal of Elizabeth Drinker, From 1759 to 1807, A.D.//, edited by Henry D. Biddle, Philadelphia: J.B. Lippincott Company (1889). \n[[http://books.google.com/books?id=LyDu9fuH2JgC|http://books.google.com/books?id=LyDu9fuH2JgC]]\n\nJ. H. Powell, //Bring Out Your Dead: The Great Plague of Yellow Fever in Philadelphia in 1793//, Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press (1949).\n\n\n!!!Images used in this story taken from the following sources\n\n“The Bush Hill estate.” \nA drawing by James Peller Malcolm presenting the country seat of Andrew Hamilton, Esq. (circa 1790s).\n[[http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Andrew_Hamilton_Bush_Hill_Drawing.png|http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Andrew_Hamilton_Bush_Hill_Drawing.png]]\n\n“The child's tonsils, fauces, and uvula are inflamed.”\nFrom //Anatomy of the Human Body, 20th ed., revised by Warren H. Lewis// by Henry Gray (1918).\n[[http://www.bartleby.com/107/illus1014.html|http://www.bartleby.com/107/illus1014.html]]\n\n“Dr. Rush looks at me with a fire burning in his eyes.” \nAn engraving by Edward Savage (1800). \n[[http://digitalgallery.nypl.org/nypldigital/id?2014868|http://digitalgallery.nypl.org/nypldigital/id?2014868]]\n\n“The estimable Dr. Benjamin Rush.” \nFrom //Appletons' Cyclopaedia of American Biography//, Edited by James Grant Wilson and John Fiske (1900).\n[[https://archive.org/stream/appletonscyclopa05wils#page/348/|https://archive.org/stream/appletonscyclopa05wils#page/348/]]\n\n“Frontispiece.” \nFrom //Great Fortunes and how They Were Made: Or, The Struggles and Triumphs of Our Self-made Men// by James Dabney McCabe (1871).\n[[http://www.gutenberg.org|http://www.gutenberg.org/files/15161/15161-h/15161-h.htm#illust6841]]\n\n“The house is wholly consumed by fire.”\nAn engraving entitled “Vue de L'Incendie de la Foire St. Germain à Paris.” (1762)\n\n\n“Mr. Berry will benefit from a gentle bleeding.” \nFrom //A Manual for the Practice of Surgery//, by Thomas Bryant (1881).\n[[http://www.civilwarmedicalbooks.com/Practice_of_Surgery_Bryant.html|http://www.civilwarmedicalbooks.com/Practice_of_Surgery_Bryant.html]]\n\n“A scamp stares at me.” \nAn engraving of Kaspar Hausar (circa 1820s).\n[[http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Kaspar_hauser.jpg|http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Kaspar_hauser.jpg]]\n\n“The shop was empty save for one man.”\nFrom //Pictorial History of the United States// by Charles Morris (1907).\n[[http://ushistoryimages.com/printing-press-invention.shtm|http://ushistoryimages.com/printing-press-invention.shtm]]\n\n“Suddenly I feel a most curious sensation...”\nFrom //The National Police Gazette//, October 1, 1892.
Still, that is but one hospital. Perhaps I should [[call a meeting of physicians|cure_physicians]] and tell those who remain in this city of my discovery. If we are all spreading my cure in combination, maybe we can end this plague.
<<set $ending[12] = 'true'>><<set $currentEnd=12>>\s\nOctober 27, 1793 <<set $date="October 27, 1793">>\n\nAfter nearly three months of suffering, a significant cooling of the weather seemed to finally bring about an end to the horrible yellow fever in Philadelphia. The city slowly began to come alive again as residents who had fled returned at last, and those who had stayed began to resume their normal activities as best they could.\n\nThe Brooks's house had been shut up for well over a month when neighbors finally tore the boards off the doors and ventured to look inside. They found the entire family inside, dead, succumbed to the fever.\n\n\nTHE END.\n----\n<<set $paths[15]="true">>\n<<display 'ending tracker'>>
<<set $badges[4]='true'>><<popup 4>><<save>>\s\nI had not expected such resistance from Sarah about leaving town. It seems that I have no choice but to continue with my routine and pray for the best.\n\n<<display "patients">>
<<set $badges[6] = "true">><<popup 6>><<save>>\s\n“Stop, you!” I call from the carriage.\n\nThe woman looks up long enough to give me a fierce stare and then continues rummaging about the man's body.\n\nI have heard the tales of lawlessness and wanton thievery taking place ever since this epidemic was confirmed in the papers, but the brazenness of this woman, robbing a corpse in broad daylight! For the sake of all those of us who still live here, I cannot simply walk away from this.\n\nI tell the driver to let me out here and I instruct him to drive ahead to the nearest watch box and summon a constable. \n\nSpringing from the carriage, I command the woman to get away from the body. \n\nShe looks startled by my presence, but she complies with my command to back away.\n\n“Leave me alone,” she begins, “I've got work to do here. Can't you see this fellow's collapsed?”\n\n“And you sought to take advantage of his misfortune and rob him I see. What a despicable way to make a living. You will answer to the courts for your callous thievery.”\n\n“No, no,” she replies shaking her head. “You don't understand. He's very sick and I—”\n\n“I know what you are, you foul creature. You are a vulture! Save your excuses for a judge. Here comes the watchman now.”\n\nThe driver returns with a constable. I explain the situation and he prompty places the woman under arrest. He then asks if he may use my carriage to take the woman to the jail house. As I am close enough to get home on foot, so I gladly allow him use of the carriage.\n\nI stop for a moment to examine the poor soul laying upon the dirty street. As if this fever weren't tragedy enough, it seems not even the dead can rest peacefully in this troubled city.\n\nWhat's this? The man stirs! Is it possible that he is only collapsed and not just another dead body?\n\nThe man's pulse is very feeble, but he is still alive. I do not have a proper medical bag with me, but I do have some spirit of hartshorn. I use it to revive the man.\n\n“Where am I?” he asks. I explain to him that he has collapsed in the middle of Chestnut Street.\n\n“Where is my nurse?” he croaks.\n\n“Your nurse?” I ask, surprised by the question.\n\nHis voice is barely a whisper now as he explains. “A woman from the Free African Society has been helping me these past few days,” he explains. “She was here just a moment ago. Perhaps she left to send for a doctor.”\n\nI try to conceal my shock at this disturbing revelation. What have I done? Did I really send his nurse to prison? Well, there is no sense troubling the man over it now, not in his current condition. \n\nI help him back into the boarding house across the street. We head for the stairs leading to the rooms upstairs when suddenly he stops.\n\n“No,” he says, “we must go through the back door into the basement. The owner doesn't want anyone here to know there is fever in the house.” \n\nI am not altogether surprised. He would not be the first to be turned out because of the fever. I've even heard of family members abandoning one another out of fear of the disease.\n\nWhen we get inside, I offer the man some drink and give him a moderate bleeding to help ease the heat of his fever. As I leave, he asks again about his nurse. I assure him that I will try to discover her whereabouts.\n\nAs I depart the boarding house, I cannot stop thinking about how badly I misjudged this man's poor nurse. I shall go to the jail straightaway and get her released. And though I know there are a great many evils being committed in our city right now, I shall endeavor not to rush to pass judgment on others [[in the coming days|choke_2]].
----\n<<set $ending[8] = 'true'>><<set $currentEnd=8>>\nDr. Brooks never made it to the Bush Hill hospital. He collapsed on the nearly deserted streets of Philadelphia on <<print $date>> and died where he lay.\n\nHis wife Sarah survived the yellow fever epidemic, but never recovered from the mental shock of the loss of her children. A charity organization eventually paid to send her to a lunatic asylum in 1794. She remained a patient at the asylum until her death 27 years later. John, Jr. left Philadelphia as a stowaway on an ocean-going vessel. His fate remains unknown. \n\n\nTHE END.\n----\n<<display 'ending tracker'>>
I can see that while there is much work still to be done at this hospital, they are well managed. I would be better off serving those people in the city suffering from the disease.\n\nI thank Mr. Girard for showing me around and explain that I am resolved to help those in the city who cannot find their way to his fine hospital. We shake hands and bid each other good luck in our battles against the yellow fever.\n\nThe trip back into the city is a long one. Normally, it might be a pleasantly scenic carriage ride, but these days it is a trip filled with visions of suffering and woe. \n\nCoffins and shrouds containing the bodies of the dead litter the streets. Houses and shops are boarded up. Some are closed up only for fear of the infestation. Others surely contain the dead and dying within their walls.\n\nThe closer we get to the city center, the greater the number of boarded up shops and houses. It is a wonder that anyone still remains in the city, yet there are the occasional signs of life. \n\nA woman, basket in hand, in search of an open grocer. Men with carts piled high with debris slowly moving along the streets collecting the city's refuse. \n\nMy carriage now approaches the once bustling Chestnut Street, which is now eerily deserted. \n\nWait! I am mistaken. The street is not completely empty. A black woman crouches over the body of a young man lying in the street. He seems to be a Navyman by the look of it. What business could she possibly have with him? \n\nWhatever it is, she looks to be unsettled by the presence of my carriage. She keeps glancing nervously at me as I roll slowly by.\n\n[[Offer to assist her.|help]]\n[[Continue on my way.|move_along]] \n
<<set $paths[14] = 'true'>>\s\nAs much as John, Jr. might want to explore the city, I am determined we should weather this fearful storm together as a family.\n\nWhile the house may not be as comfortable or safe as I had hoped, there is certainly nothing but disease and danger outside. We shall stick together and pray for the best.\n\n[[I must believe we will prevail...|shut_in_death]]
It is with a heavy heart that I laid my wife to rest on the 20th of September. My frantic efforts to heal her were to no avail. For three painful days and nights I sat by her side bringing her cold drinks and offering her laudanum in an effort to calm her nausea. I do not know if it was Dr. Rush's pills themselves, or my reluctance for follow the harsh course of treatment through that lead to her demise, all I know is that the fatal illness never lifted. \n\nI began making the preparations for her burial, but was shocked to discover that a proper burial would not be possible under this extraordinary circumstances. Instead, I had to... <html><span style='font-style:italic;'>I had to place her body on the wagon with countless others of the city's dead</span></html>, to be buried in haste and anonymity. The horror of knowing that she shall never have a proper grave is almost greater than my horror at her death itself.\n\n<<display 'wife_dead_choice'>>
<<set $track = 5>>\s\nI was recently called upon by Felicity Mills, wife of Mr. Jonathan Mills. She reports that her husband has fallen ill and fears it may be dreaded yellow fever.\n\nWith no little dread in my heart, I set out in search of the Mills residence.\n\nIt is a rickety house at Arch and Front Street. As I walk into the home, there is a peculiar odor. Not that strange and foul odors are that unusual in this area, so close by the wharves, but the stench permeating this home is quite exceptional.\n\nI try to conceal my revulsion from the occupants, but Mrs. Mills clearly notices my involuntary shudder.\n\n“It's that damn coffee!” she vulgarly exclaims, pointing emphatically in the direction of the docks. “There's rotting coffee on the wharves. They dumped a whole shipload of it a fortnight or so ago, and it's been festering there and souring up the airs all around here ever since. It's sickening the entire neighborhood!”\n\nI assure Mrs. Mills that while the odor is unpleasant, I doubt that it is a source of illness, but silently, I offer a prayer of gratitude that I live nowhere near the wharves and this wretched stench.\n\nMrs. Mills gives me such an intense look, I almost wonder if she can't hear my thoughts. Without another word, she gestures me upstairs.\n\nMr. Mills is a peculiar man, with a pinched face and beady eyes. \n\nHis illness does not appear to be particularly troubling, but I am rather concerned about the effect the poor airs around here may be having on him. Although there is still much controversy regarding the cause of the fever, I feel that some precautions must be taken. \n\nI recommend the man burn nitre and cleanse the room regularly with vinegar to help purify the toxic air. He tells me that he's certain he has some nitre that he should like to start burning immediately, but that it's in the cellar. As he is too weak to retrieve it himself, and his wife is nowhere to be seen, he asks if I would retrieve the nitre from the basement for him.\n\n[[Get the nitre.|fetch_nitre]]\n[[Leave.|leave_nitre]]
I recall hearing that another young lawyer by the name of John Todd is said to be still practicing in the city. I believe his office is not too terribly far away. I feel very weak now, and so thirsty. But I hope I can make it...\n\nI set out in the direction of Fourth Street. At times I am hardly certain I am actually moving forward, but I am somehow able to stay on my feet. At somehow manage to reach Second Street and turn right.\n\nAs I round the corner, I am surprised to see a living person out on the streets. Ah, now it makes sense, he is one of the men commissioned to collect and bury the dead. He seems to be struggling to hoist the body of a particularly corpulent fellow into his cart.\n\n“Lend me a hand, wouldya?”\n\nOh merciful Heaven, the dreadful man is talking to me!\n\n[[Carry on and pretend not to hear.|dropdead_end]]\n[[Help. And try not to vomit.|movebody]]
“There must be some course of action we can recommend to our citizens to help them avoid falling victim to this fever,” I say.\n\n“Many of our city's physicians will be meeting to discuss this very question. There are many theories about that, although I dare say the efficacy of many of them is questionable.”\n\nDr. Rush hesitates, but I urge him to speak honestly what is on his mind.\n\nHe looks me in the eye with a steady but somber gaze. “We must stay and grapple with this foe for the sake of others, as it is our sworn duty as medical men. Otherwise, I would advise you in the same way that I have advised another dear friend: leave the city and stay away until this illness passes.”\n\n“You think it is as bad as that? Flight from the city?”\n\n“Yes, John. Yes, I do.” \n<<set $ask_avoid="true">><<set $rush_questions +=1>>\n<<display "rush_questions">>\n
I beg the driver to speed up, but I can feel no change in our plodding pace. Even if he ran the horses at full gallop, it would be too slow for my liking, but at this rate it seems we will never make it to the hospital.\n\nI feel so helpless watching the light in my lovely Sarah's eyes grow dim...\n\n<html><div class = "image"><img src="../img/ellipsis.png" /></div></html>\nWe at last arrive at the fever hospital. I hoist Sarah out of this God-forsaken death cart and rush her inside the front doors.\n\nI wait for no invitation. I carry Sarah to the nearest available bed and lay her down upon it. Our unexpected entrance has not gone unnoticed by the staff, and it takes but little effort on my part to summon a doctor to Sarah's side.\n\nI watch him anxiously as he takes her pulse. I try to read the expression on his face, but he is as inscrutable as the Sphinx.\n\n“You can help her, yes?” I ask, my patience at an end.\n\n“You know that I cannot,” the man replies. \n\n“What do you mean? You can. You must!”\n\n“Sir, she is dead.”\n\nShe is dead. She is dead! Passed away in that horrible cart. No, no I cannot believe that it is true. My Sarah cannot have left me!\n\n“I am sorry,” the stony-faced doctor continues. “You may sit here with her for a bit, but Mr. Helm will have to soon and clear the bed.”\n\nWith those cold, cruel words he turns and walks away. I take Sarah's hand in my own and pray for a miracle.\n\n<html><div class = "image"><img src="../img/ellipsis.png" /></div></html>\nI am startled by the light touch of Mr. Helm's hand on my shoulder. \n\nI do not know for how long I have been here. Sarah's hand I still keep clasped in my own, but it is noticeably colder than it was before.\n\nMr. Helm speaks softly to me, “I'm sorry, Dr. Brooks, but we need to move the body out of the hospital now. You should go home and get some rest. We'll take her from here.”\n\nHome...? How can I go home? What is there left for me there? How will the children and I ever get by—//the children!//\n\nMy God! I've left them alone all this time! I was so preoccupied with Sarah. Oh, what have I done?\n\n“Mr. Helm!” I grab the man and draw him to me, perhaps a bit more forcefully than I should have. His eyes grow wide with fear.\n\n“Mr. Helm I must get back to the city immediately!”\n\nMr. Helm seems to take forever to speak, but at last he halting tells me that it will be some hours before they expect the next carriage to arrive.\n\n“But surely, you have a steed somewhere on the estate I could take into town.”\n\nMr. Helm makes no reply. \n\n“Damn it man, my children! My children!” \n\nI shake Mr. Helm heartily but still he says nothing.\n\nI see no choice now. Cursing Mr. Helm with every invective I know, I set out for the city [[at a sprint|sprint]].
There's a very peculiar sound, coming from the far corner of the basement. It sounds almost as though a faint breeze is blowing through a crack in the wall. And yet, the sound is very distinctly coming from the floor. There is a large sheet of burlap laying on the floor. Perhaps the sound is coming from underneath...\n\n[[Look underneath the sack.|snakepit_end]]\n[[Ask Mr. Mills first about the sack.|survive_snakepit]]\n[[It is unimportant. I should grab the nitre and leave quickly.|nitre]]
<<set $ending[6] = 'true'>><<set $currentEnd=6>>\s\n<center><span class="chpt-heading">Epilogue:<br>New Beginnings</span></center>\n\nOctober 27, 1793 <<set $date="October 27, 1793">>\n\nAt last, a significant cooling of the weather this last week seems to have finally brought about an end to the wretched yellow fever. The loss of my wife Sarah fills me with great sorrow, but at least that sorrow is lessened slightly by my unexpected but joyful marriage to the indomitable Prudence Brewster.\n\nAcross the city, there have been many sudden marriages such as ours, and I have heard Dr. Rush say that he believes this is due to the fever somehow exciting the venereal appetites. While I have much respect for Dr. Rush, I dare say that he is dreadfully mistaken in this explanation. \n\nI believe this terrible fever has made many people realize the preciousness of life, and the frailty of the human body to resist the forces of nature. I believe that surviving this horrible and deleterious illness made us relish life again and cling ever faster to the things, and people, whom we hold dear.\n\nOf course, there are still a great many things that we do not know about this mysterious yellow fever. Still, while the physician in me yearns to learn more about this dreadful fever, the man in me is grateful to have been spared.\n\n\nTHE END.\n----\n<<set $paths[12]="true">>\s\n<<display 'ending tracker'>>
<<if $sailors eq 'true'>>\s\nIf anyone will have seen case this fever with his own eyes, it would be my old mentor, the tireless Dr. Benjamin Rush. I make haste to his home at the corner of Walnut and Third Street, hoping to find him in. \n\nI am disappointed when I arrive to find that the estimable doctor has already gone out for the day. His maid suggests I might find him making a call on a patient at Mrs. Marshall's boarding house. I wonder if I should attempt to find him or get on with my own day's work.\n<<else>>\s\nBlast it all! As much as I hate to admit it, the fearful reports of this disease do vex me. I do not think I could take breakfast in comfort without first gathering more information about this fever. I think it best that I head straight to my old mentor's home and see if he is in. If anyone will have seen this mysterious fever with his own eyes, it would be the tireless Dr. Rush.\n\nDressing quickly, I make haste toward the corner of Walnut and Third Street. I am disappointed, however, to find that the estimable doctor is not in. His maid suggests I might find him making a call on a patient at Mrs. Marshall's boarding house. I wonder if I should attempt to find him or get on with my own day's work.\n<<endif>>\n[[Go to the boarding house.|rush_2]]\n[[Call on Dr. Rush later.|rush_no]]\n
<<set $badges[0] = "true">><<popup 0>>\s\n<<save>>\s\n<<set $talk_to_rush = "yes">>\s\n<<set $rush_questions = 0>>\s\nI had worried that finding Dr. Rush by the wharves would be difficult, but walking up Water Street, I see Dr. Rush just as I approach Arch Street. I hail him, but am surprised by the very serious expression on his face.\n\n<div class = "image"> <img id="drrush" src="/images/issues/2/2/fever/rush.png" /> <p class = "caption">The estimable Dr. Benjamin Rush.</p></div>\nHe greets me warmly, but I can see that his heart is heavy. It suddenly occurs to me that perhaps there are more to the rumors than I initially believed.\n\n“Dr. Rush, what brings you out here to the wharves?”\n\n“Just checking up on a laborer who was suddenly taken ill. I had feared it would be yet another case of the pernicious bilious remitting yellow fever which has proven so destructive to our residents of late. Happily, however, the man seems to have nothing more than a mild dysentery.”\n\n“Bilious remitting yellow fever?” I ask. “So there is truth to the whispered accounts of an epidemic?” \n\nThe good doctor looked gravely at me. “While I cannot vouch for the truth of every rumor you might have heard, I can confirm that there is a very troubling disease spreading amongst our citizens. I have seen it myself, and I am certain that things here shall become much worse before they start to improve.”\n\n“I confess I am surprised that the rumors have had any basis in fact. I've been hardly wont to believe them, with facts being more rare than gold in nearly every account I've heard.”\n\nDr. Rush looked gravely at me. “It is true that in times like these, fear tends to lead people to exaggerate the truth, but in this case, I believe the rumors may be less disturbing than the truth. By my reckoning, as many as 70 persons carried off by this bilious fever thus far.”\n\nThe good doctor's words are full of unsettling revelations. I have so many questions, but I know his time is limited...\n\n<<display "rush_questions">>
Mrs. Marshall's boarding house is so very close by, it would be foolish to leave without even trying to catch the man. I cross the street and make my way to the corner of Chestnut & Third.\n\nI arrive at Mrs. Marshall's boarding house, but once again it seems I am seconds too late to catch the fleet-footed Dr. Rush! The matron tells me that he has departed for Water Street. What business he could possibly have over by the docks, I cannot imagine.\n\n[[Look for Dr. Rush by the docks.|rush_3]]\n[[Give up this wild pursuit and see your patients.|rush_no]]
Perhaps the devastating experiences of the fever have emboldened me, but this is an insight that I cannot let pass without taking action. Prudence <html><em>is</em</html> worth her weight in gold, and I, while not the physician I once arrogantly believed myself to be, I am at least a man who can appreciate the value that this extraordinary woman brings to the world. \n\nThe loss of Sarah has been devastating to myself and my children, but to have such a tender presence as Prudence's in our home might be just the thing to make our grief more bearable...\n\nI know it seems impulsive, but I cannot seem to stop the words from pouring out of my mouth:\n\n“Prudence, you might think me daft or delirious still for asking this, but I assure you I am neither. I wonder if you would—”\n\nHere the words catch in my throat and my hands begin to tremble ever so slightly. I start to think that I cannot finish the thought, but then she catches my unsteady hands in hers. At this gentle gesture, I feel my voice return.\n\n“Prudence, would you accept a proposal of marriage from me?”\n\nHer eyes widen in surprise at my question, but she doesn't look away. Perhaps it is the fever still making havoc within my body, but as I wait for her reply my breath seems to come in gasps, and I can feel every beat of my heart pressing harder and harder against my ribcage.\n\nI am certain I cannot wait much longer for [[her answer...|remarry_end]]
<html> <div class = "image"> <img id="bushhill" src="/images/issues/2/2/fever/bushHill.png" /> <p class = "caption">The estate at Bush Hill.</p> </div> </html>\nBush Hill is a large manor estate northwest of the city. It was appropriated for use as a fever hospital due partially to its availability, but also because of its ideal location just outside of the city. Removing the sick from the city center protects the uninfected residents from their putrid exhalations, while at the same time, the fever victims themselves are offered respite from the oppressive, miasmatic airs of the congested streets and alleyways of Philadelphia proper.\n\nThe journey to the hospital is not a terribly long one, but it is long enough to reveal what a fearful sight the city has become. Wagons, loaded to the top with the bodies of the dead, wind through the streets. Meanwhile, windows are boarded and shops have been closed for fear of the deadly epidemic.\n\nAt least the hospital itself proves to be a much more uplifting sight. I am immediately impressed by the orderliness of the hospital. I feared the hospital would be grossly understaffed, as nurses are becoming harder and harder to find while this cloud of sickness hovers over our city. Nothing pleases me more than the discovery that the hospital is in fact quite respectably managed.\n\nI am told this is due to the capable administration of Messrs. Stephen Girard and Peter Helm. Neither is a physician, and yet both have risen to the occasion at a time when many physicians are refusing to perform their sworn duties. I look forward to telling Sarah about these two commendable gentlemen and their exemplary fever hospital.\n\nI ask how they are treating these fever victims. Mr. Girard is a busy man, but he spares a few moments to show me around. I am surprised to find that at Bush Hill, they have chosen to ignore Dr. Rush's much more aggressive policy of treatment and offer instead mostly clean environs and restorative care for the fever patients. I would like to push for more details, but Mr. Girard is clearly busy and I must return home.\n\n<html><div class = "image"><img src="/images/issues/2/2/fever/ellipsis.png" /></div></html>\nI arrive home well past suppertime. Something is wrong. Sarah? Where is she? \n\nI call out to her, but no one answers. I try to remain calm, but I feel a cold sweat break out on the back of my neck. \n\n“Sarah? Sarah?”\n\nI look in the parlor and find Sarah collapsed on the floor. She is drenched in sweat and hot to the touch. Her face is pale—no, not pale. Yellow, her face is yellow. Oh God, she has the fever! How could I have left her here alone like that? What a fool I am!\n\nI must do something. I must do something to help her. But [[what]]?\n
Wild indigo is just one of our indigenous medicines. Although the full extent of its medical usefulness is yet to be discovered, its powerful action on the human body is unquestioned. I believe a weak decoction made from the root should prove an effective remedy in this case.\n\nI tell the young boy my recommendation and give him the simplest instructions I can for how to administer the indigo. I tell him I shall come back and check on his mother in a few days time. \n\n<<display 'dirtymother_end'>>
I opt to prescribe the woman cinchona bark. Although it is more commonly employed to relieve the symptoms of a typical summer ague, its use against the continued fever of scarlatina anginosa has been shown to be most efficacious. I am confident that its use now will bring the mother's illness under control.\n\nI tell the young boy my recommendation and give him the simplest instructions I can for how to administer the cinchona bark. I tell him I shall come back and check on his mother in a few days time. \n\n<<display 'dirtymother_end'>>
Scarlatina is believed by many experts, myself included, to be the result of a dangerous inflammation of the blood vessels. Relieving the body of excess blood can quickly diminish the deleterious effects of an overburdened vascular system. I therefore waste no time in applying the lancet to the poor, restless woman.\n\nOnce the bleeding has commenced, the woman appears much relieved by the treatment. I am expect that another blood-letting is unlikely to be needed. I tell the dirty scamp that I am satisfied with his mother's condition, and I agree to come check on the woman again in the morning.\n\n<<display 'dirtymother_end'>>
“Father, Dr. Hutchinson is dead!” John exclaims.\n\n<<if $doc_dead eq 'true'>>“I know, son. I just saw the disturbing news in the paper. I am sorry to have sent you on a fool's errand.”<<else>>“What? How dreadful! Was it- do you know what caused his death?”\n\n“They believe it was the yellow fever,” he tells me, his eyes wide.\n\nThis is distressing news indeed.<<endif>>\n\n“There is more bad news, Father. I was told that Dr. Rush has fallen ill with the fever, too!”\n\nDr. Rush is ill as well? This is a troubling sign indeed, athough if I know him, he will fight with a stubbornness that only he can manage.\n\nAlthough this is all terribily disheartening, John reveals one last bit of information that provides a much needed glimmer of hope: some Fellows of the College of Physicians will be meeting this evening, and I have been welcomed to join them. \n\nDr. Kuhn shall be presiding over the meeting, and it appears that he had attended Dr. Hutchinson in his final hours. Drs. Kuhn, Currie and Barton have promised to attend, as will an assistant of Dr. Rush, Mr. John Redman Coxe.\n\n[[Go to the meeting.|physicians_3]]\n[[Forget the meeting, it is time to leave this blighted city.|failflee]]
<<set $badges[16] = 'true' >><<popup 16>><<save>>\s\nArriving at the meeting, physicians all have very similar stories of their encounters with this yellow fever. Excruciating thirst, black, putrid vomiting, yellowing skin and eyes, and fever seem to be the predominant symptoms. Sometimes the illness seems to last for days, other times, it appears to come on suddenly, but in all instances, the fever seems all too likely to end in death.\n\nUnfortunately, the symptoms of the fever seem to be the only aspect of this illness that these men seem able to agree upon. Insofar as finding a cure, I am chagrined to discover that each has his own preferred, but unproven, method of treatment.\n\nDrs. Kuhn and Barton are in favor of the use of mild stimulants like wine, combined with the application of cool baths. Mr. Coxe, however, is adamant in advocating Dr. Rush's aggressive course of bleedings and purgatives. And then there is Dr. Currie, who has developed his own method of treatment, which he has recently circulated in pamphlet form. He advocates and abundance of fresh vital airs, tartar emetic in barley water, and regular cleansing of the patient's bed linens in vinegar.\n\nAs if those differences were not enough, each man seems to be determined in opposing the others' methods as strongly as possible. Currie denounces the bleedings of Rush and Coxe. “Bloodletting results in a state of debility in the patient,” he argued. Meanwhile, Mr. Coxe argues that mercurial purgatives could restore even the most debilitated patients, and insists that the baths advocated by Dr. Kuhn were too weak to have any effect at all. \n\nAfter nearly two hours of bickering and debate, the meeting at last adjourns. I am all too happy to at last [[depart for home|jj_sick]].
----\n<<set $ending[2] = 'true'>><<set $currentEnd=2>>\nYou have chosen to flee the city, a choice which nearly 20,000 other Philadelphians made over the course of the epidemic. \n\nSuch a choice was, in fact, likely to save your life and your family's. Although people did not know it at the time, the yellow fever was spread by infected mosquitoes, which flourished in the hot and humid conditions of late summer Philadelphia that year. Getting away from the mosquitoes made infection an impossibility.\n\nHowever, you would also have to live with the knowledge that, as a physician, you put your life above that of others. You may have made a smart decision when it came to preserving your own hide, but you can certainly expect to have been judged harshly by those who stayed to help the sick and dying.\n\n\nTHE END.\n----\n<<display 'ending tracker'>>
<<set $track = 6>>\s\nI must avail myself of the expertise of other physicians and see what they know about this raging epidemic. Although I hate to neglect any patients currently seeking my care, I believe it is better that they briefly receive no care at all than to be treated with blind ignorance.\n\nI should like to conduct some research before launching into a discussion with my colleagues, so I summon John Jr. to my office.\n\n“John, I need you to call upon the Port Physician, Dr. James Hutchinson. You know the man, correct?”\n\n“Yes, sir. Would you have me go look for him down by the wharves?”\n\n“Yes, son. Please run over there and see if he might be willing to call together a group of physicians for a meeting later today. Tell him I would like to discuss this epidemic fever.”\n\nWhile he is on his errand, I should prepare.\n\n[[Read a newspaper.|phys_paper]]\n[[Consult a medical textbook.|phys_book]]\n\n\n
My heart pounds so heavily within my chest that I am almost certain it is going to explode. I am forced to slow my pace, but I am close to home now. The thought of embracing my children is the only thing that keeps my legs in motion.\n\nAs my breathing slowly returns to normal, I am dismayed to detect the strong scent of a bonfire not far away. No matter how many warnings the mayor issues, foolish people continue lighting fires in the streets, hoping that the acrid smoke will somehow ward off the deadly fever. Not only will their superstitious practice do little to save them from the disease, but with the region currently in a drought, it is all the more likely that they will instead burn the whole city down!\n\nI've half a mind to [[make a detour|detour]] and track down the buffoons who started the fire and demand they put an end to their infernal blaze, but I have left [[my home and my children|children]] alone long enough.
Are you certain you want to delete all local save data for this game from your browser?\n\n[[Yes.|clear]]\n[[Oops, no thanks!|how-to]]
----\n<<set $ending[5] = 'true'>><<set $currentEnd=5>>\nDr. Brooks closed his eyes for the last time on <<print $date>>. While running to escape from the mysterious thin man, Dr. Brooks was trampled in the street by a horse and carriage. \n\nHis valiant efforts to treat his fellow Philadelphians cannot be said to have been in vain, but they did ultimately cost him his life.\n\n\nTHE END.\n----\n<<display 'ending tracker'>>
Ah ha! Happily there is a small stepping-stool tucked away in a corner of the basement. I'll use that to reach the bottle of nitre and get out of this awful place as quickly as possible. \n\nThere is a fair bit of clutter that separates me from the stool, but I quickly move these things to the side. First, I'll slide this crate to the side, and move this coil of rope out of my way. Why is this large piece of burlap stretched across the cellar floor? No matter. I'll only set the stool upon it briefly, grab the bottle and go.\n\nStanding upon the stool, I find the bottle to be just out of my reach. If I can just edge just a bit closer...\n\nSuddenly, the stool start to wobble and tip over. Unable to catch myself, I crash to the ground. \n\nFor a moment, all that I am aware of is a blistering pain in my hip and the scratchy sensation of burlap all around me. It would seem the fabric stretched across the floor was actually covering a hole of some sort, and I've fallen right into it. \n\nI try to shake myself free of the burlap, but as soon as I move I feel a sudden sharp pain in my left ankle. Now there's another in my arm. And yet another in my back. It seems like something is biting me!\n\nMore stinging blows follow, many to my flailing limbs and now one to my face. My eyes are beginning to swell shut, but I can at last see what is happening to me. The pit is crawling with snakes! \n\nUnfortunately for me, these snakes are rather unhappy at my clumsy intrusion. I can feel them continue to bite at my arms and legs. For some reason though, the pain now grows less intense with every bite...\n<<set $paths[9]="true">>\n<<display 'snakedeath'>>\n\n
It has become harder and harder as this epidemic drags on to keep up with the latest news. Not only have I been kept busy attending to the sick and dying, but even the sources for news themselves seem to be withering under this unrelenting plague. Many local newspapers have been forced to suspend their publication. //The Pennsylvania Packet//, //Claypoole's Daily Advertiser//, the //Gazette of the United States//—all have ceased printing. \n\nStill, I find sitting on my desk a few unread issues of the //Federal Gazette//, which continues to print despite the hardships. While John Jr. is seeking out the good doctor, it seems now is as prudent a time as any to catch up on the city's news.\n\nUnsurprisingly, the accounts are just as grim as I might have imagined. But one piece of news in particular catches my eye: \n\n<center>//Port Doctor's death almost certainly Yellow Fever.//</center>\nCould this be true? Dr. Hutchinson is dead, succumbed to the very pestilence I had hoped to discuss with him. How could I have failed to hear this news before now? It would seem that I have been far too lax in following news of this fever.\n\nI wonder if I should hasten to recall John, but no sooner does the thought enter my mind than the boy comes bursting into my office.\n<<set $doc_dead = 'true'>>\n<<display 'physicians_2'>>\n
It would seem that for the last three days, I have been under the watchful care of Miss Prudence Brewster.\n\nFrom what she has explained to me, she heard about my wife's passing and, although delayed by her father's own illness, had at last come around to see if she could offer the children and I any assistance. \n\nAlthough she apologized for arriving so many days after my wife's passing, to me it would seem that her timing could not have been better. She arived at the house to find me reduced to my lowest point, lying delirious upon my office floor.\n\nNow, thanks to her care, I am at least feeling my strength start to return. It would seem that I shall be one of the lucky few [[to survive|widowed_end]] this awful disease.\n<<if $flirt eq 'true'>>\nWords cannot express how grateful I am to Miss Brewster. In these terrible times, many of those willing to nurse the sick have been charging exorbitant fees to do so. Out of fear of the dread diease, even family members have fled and left their loved ones to die. And yet, this brave woman has selflessly risked her own safety to come to my aid. Truly, someone with a heart as pure as this [[is worth her weight in gold|proposal]]. <<endif>>
<<set $wife='dead'>><<set $rushremedy = 'true'>>\s\nI cannot waste any more time! The idea of taking Sarah to Bush Hill is appealing, but she is so obviously in mortal danger that I must hasten to treat her as swiftly and aggressively as possible. \n\nI look frantically for the newspaper with Dr. Rush's proposed remedy. Maybe it is enough to save her.\n\nI find the paper at last. I read over the good doctor's words, but I am hardly certain that I trust my own eyes. Does he really recommend three doses of purgatives in a single day? \n\n“Fifteen grains of jalap and ten of calomel. The evacuations should come quickly...”\n\nI doubt that I would give a man twice Sarah's size such a dose of purgatives. And yet, knowing Dr. Rush, I am certain he would not suffer the printer to allow any errors.\n\nThe remedy continues, “It is best to use the purgatives in conjunction with blood-letting and cold drinks in order to remove excess of stimulus from the system, for this overstimulation is the proximate cause of the disease. Once the bowels have been properly purged, take at minimum eight to ten ounces of blood from the arm.”\n\nA hearty bleeding in addition to the calomel and jalap?! Truly, either Dr. Rush is completely mad, or... or absolutely certain that his remedy is the only way to fight this fever.\n\nAs frightened as I am of the prescription, I see no other choice than to carry it out.\n\nI prop Sarah up in bed and rush to my medicine chest. I readily find the calomel and jalap I seek, but I only have enough for the first two doses. I will have to find an open apothecary in the city before the morning.\n\nStill, I have enough to get started. I administer the first dose of purgatives, but with much difficulty. Sarah is barely able to swallow. I sit anxiously by here side and wait for the medicine to begin taking effect.\n\nBut my vigil is interrupted by the sudden cries of the baby Matthew. The children! How long have they been left to fend for themselves with Sarah collapsed on the floor, I wonder.\n\nIt seems I will not be able to pay Sarah my undivided attention after all. Matthew cries again, and now little Louisa joins in. How will I ever manage Sarah's illness and care for the children over [[the coming days|choke_2]]?\n
There is no time to waste. The girl seems to be sinking like a stone.\n\nI thrust my box of pills and my hat into the hands of a bystander and plunge into the water. For a moment, I feel as though I, too, may sink like a stone. I have taken the waters at Berkeley Springs, before, but I am not very experienced swimming in deep waters. I am having second thoughts about the wisdom of my jumping in.\n\nI am able to at least resurface and get my bearings. I should really like to find the nearest ladder climb out, but the crowd is now waving furiously at me to indicate where the girl was last seen. I suppose I have drenched a good suit for nothing if I do not at least look for the poor woman.\n\nI swim, if my awkward motions can even be called swimming, I swim over to the spot, but the girl is nowhere to be seen. I shall have to dive under the water's surface and see if I can find her.\n\nI draw in a large breath and plunge myself under the water. I open my eyes, but there is little I can see in the murky waters. I push a little deeper into the water and stretch out my hands. \n\nSomething brushes against my arm! Could it be the girl? \n\nI spread my arms wide and try to find the source, but I find nothing. My lungs begin to ache. I must go up for air.\n\nI aright myself underwater and begin to pull myself back towards the surface. Suddenly, something catches at my foot. Whatever it is, I can feel it gripping tightly about my ankle. It is dragging me down into the water!\n\nI look, but I cannot see what has taken a hold of me. I kick. I pull. I try to fight my way toward the surface despite the mysterious weight pulling me down, but it's no use. I ache to breathe and yet steadily downward I go...\n\n<<display "drowningdeath">>
<<set $paths[16] = 'true'>>\nAs repulsed as I am, I realize the man is doing the city a great service.\n\n“I must warn you, I am quite sick myself. I don't know how much help I can be.”\n\nHe shrugs indifferently. I guess I have no choice.\n\nFortunately, the fellow is able to lift most of the massive corpse's weight himself, and I am merely left to keep the legs from catching on the end of the wagon.\n\n“It's easier when folks box 'em up before I get 'em. But fewer and fewer people are doing that these days.”\n\nHe keeps speaking, but I'm having trouble understanding his words. I see a kaleidoscope of colors before my eyes. [[Everything is spinning.|check-for-kids]]
<<set $badges[19]="true">><<popup 19>><<save>><<set $removed = "true">>\s\nI am certain this little corpse is poisoning the dingy room's already stale air. It simply cannot remain in the room any longer. \n\n“Boy, what church do you belong to?”\n\nI suppose I should not be surprised by the boy's sulky silence. I try to recall what charities are nearest by.\n\n“Go to Christ Church. It is not far—on Second Street just past Arch. Tell them that burial services are needed right away. If they seem to doubt you, give them my card and tell them I sent you.”\n\nThe boy takes my card in his grubby little hand and dashes out of the apartment.\n\nBehind me, I can hear the sick woman muttering something in a rasping voice.\n\n“Don't take my baby...”\n\nI try to offer her more water and comfort her in her distress, but she appears to be nearly delirious. [[I must intervene, and quickly.|return]]
<<set $ending[7] = 'true'>><<set $currentEnd=7>>\s\n<center><span class="chpt-heading">Epilogue:<br>A Lingering Mystery</span></center>\n\nOctober 27, 1793 <<set $date="October 27, 1793">>\nAt last, a significant cooling of the weather this last week seems to have finally brought about an end to the wretched yellow fever. I have lost my wife, but at least I still have my children, who, for the time, will remain away with my parents until I can make better arrangements for their care. Perhaps in the future my sister will be able to help me raise the children. \n\nI am grateful to see this fever depart, and to see our ravaged city slowly begin to return to normalcy. At the same time, however, this yellow fever remains a great mystery, and I wish that we had been able to learn more about it while it was here. I am certain that our people have not seen it for the last time. \n\nPerhaps if we had not been so lacking in the means of caring for the ill, panic would not have gripped those who remained. Perhaps there would have been more time for careful study and thoughtful contemplation of its mode of attack and mechanisms of transmission. Still, while the physician in me yearns to learn more about this dreadful fever, the man in me is grateful to have been spared.\n\n\nTHE END.\n----\n<<set $paths[12]="true">>\n<<display 'ending tracker'>>
Examining the putrid corpse will do nothing to bring the child back, nor do I believe it likely to tell me much about the action of this disease on the living. \n\nMoreover, I know for a fact that corpses present a great danger to the living. I can recall all too vividly a fellow medical student who died a painful, fevered death after pricking himself with a scalpel while dissecting a cadaver. I'm afraid the hazards are far too great to justify further investigation.\n<<set $badinvestigator='true'>>\n<<display 'return'>>
<<set $grandson = 'true'>>\nAlthough Girard and Helm are evidently capable men, they are not physicians. I believe my services could be a great benefit to them and the people they serve.\n\nWith evidence of the hospital's previous mismanagement visible everywhere—bodies yet to be carted away, dirty floors, soiled rags and garments collecting in piles—it seems clear that while their efforts have produced great improvements, they are still understaffed.\n\nI tell Mr. Girard that I should like to volunteer my services.\n\nHe appears to be surprised by my declaration.\n\n“The is a very magnanimous offer, Dr. Brooks. Many local physicians have given up the hospital, if not the entire city, as a lost cause. It is good to know that you are made of firmer stuff. I shall introduce you to our head physician, Dr. Jean Deveze, immediately.”\n\nDr. Deveze is a pleasant man, but he wastes no time with formalities. He takes me straightaway to attend on an older gentleman, a cordwainer from Water Street who was brought in with the fever two days ago.\n\nThe Doctor explains to me how when the old man was first brought in, he was vomiting frequently. Through careful application of mild bleedings and frequent recourse to drinks comprised of water acidified with fixed air, the man's vomiting had quieted considerably.\n\n“Now,” Dr. Deveze says, “the violence of his initial symptoms has abated and he is entering into the second phase of the disease. This is the time to try and draw out the morbific cause.”\n\n“And how will you achieve that,” I ask. “With a powerful dose of a mercury cathartic?”\n\n“Oh no, Dr. Brooks, nothing so harsh as that. We shall apply blisters and bring the harmful matter to the surface where the body can properly dispense with it. But first, let us see to it that he has eaten.”\n\nTurning his attention to the sick man, he says, “Have you eaten your creamed rice, Mr. Cook?”\n\nThe old man nods yes. \n\n“And some chicken broth?”\n\n“Yes, Dr. Deveze. And I've kept it all down, thanks to you.”\n\n“Good to hear. I'd like you to meet Dr. Brooks, He will be applying your blisters today.”\n\n“I trust that you can take it from here, Dr. Brooks.”\n\nI assure him that I can. Dr. Deveze scuttles off to attend to other patients and I begin applying a blister to Mr. Cook.\n\n“Dr. Brooks, you came in from the city, isn't that right?”\n\n“Yes, I did. It's a bit of a journey out here, but I think it's worth it under these exceptional circumstances.”\n\n“Ah yes, you're a good man to come and help us poor souls. I wonder if I might ask you one further favor. My grandson is still living in our quarters on Water Street. He's a pretty independant lad, but still, with this fever going about, I need to know that he is safe. He's the only family I have left. Could you possibly check in on him when you return to the city?”\n\nI suppose [[I could check in on the boy|check-in]] when I return to the city. But it is a lengthy journey back into town. It will leave me very little time to spend with my own family. Perhaps I should [[offer to send a substitute|substitute]] to look after the boy instead.
<<set $badges[3]="true">><<popup 3>><<save>>\s\nThough I dread what I may find, it is nevertheless possible that the sister's body may give some small insight to the disease that appears to be present in this house.\n\nI try to conceal my trepidation from the young street urchin, and approach the foul-smelling rag heap as casually as I can. Using a small pair of forceps from my medical kit, I begin to slide the dirty rags one by one off of the heap.\n\nUnderneath, I find the small body of a young girl, probably not more than 3 years of age. Her body is already putrefying in the hot room, the skin discolored and distended. It is truly a horrible sight. \n\nBut worse, far worse, than the sight of the delicate, rotting little girl is the unfathomably putrid smell. I have encountered corpses before in my time as a medical professional, but this stench is near intolerable, like the scent of a thousand dead animals fermented in a vat of brackish water in the blazing summer sun.\n\nI am not certain what I was hoping to find by examining the body, but the unfortunate reality is that the little creature is too far gone to be of any use to me. I will certainly retch if I look at it again.\n\nI should [[return my attention|return]] to the sick woman, but it would be preferable to work without the added stench of this exceedingly rotting corpse. [[It really ought to be removed|removed]].
The City Tavern is always a good place to learn about the important goings on in the town. If there is any truth to these plague rumor, I shall certainly learn about it here.\n\nBulletins on the outer walls of the tavern advertise a performance to take place tonight by an Italian musician by the name of Falconetti. Even though the tavern has a room nearly fifty feet in expanse for just such events, I suspect the capacity of the establishment will be tested tonight, as Philadelphians of all stripes are always eager to take in such exotic musical performances. \n\nThis morning, however, there is only a modest crowd gathered. I recognize some local merchants poring over the newspapers in [[the Coffee Room|coffee]], but the area around [[the Bar|bar]] seems to be the more lively of the two. I wonder in which room should I wet my whistle and gather news?
While I hate to leave my task unfinished, I cannot very well go breaking into the room. After all, I'm not even certain this is the right place, and the boy may simply be out for the night.\n\nTo assure myself, I knock once more and call the young man's name, but silence is the only answer I receive.\n\nI see no choice but to [[go home|choke_2]]. I shall tell the old man tomorrow that I was unable to find the boy. Hopefully my having checked will be enough to satisfy him.
I again decline to fetch the nitre. Bidding Mr. Mills a good day, I descend the stairs and leave the house. \n\nAs I am departing, Mrs. Mills returns from the neighbors'.\n\n“Leaving so soon?” she asks.\n\nI tell her that I am indeed leaving, but that I am confident her husband will recover if he follows my instructions.\n\nShe gives me a peculiar look, but says only a quiet “thank you” before retreating back into her house.\n\nI start off for my next house call, but I do not get far before I hear Mrs. Mills call out to me, “Doctor, keep an eye out if you go past them wharves. Some boys are playing havoc with that awful rotten coffee. I wouldn't want your nice clothes to get soiled with that poisonous stuff.”\n\nNo sooner are the words out of her mouth, when we see two young lads darting down the street, an angry sailor, covered in filth, chases after them. He gives up the pursuit at the street corner, and I hear him muttering a string of invectives as he returns to the wharves.\n\nIt would seem that in addition to the city's pestilence problem, we also have a growing rapscallion problem as well. I suppose there is little I can do about it, save for being vigilant as I make my way through the streets.\n\nRounding the corner of Chestnut and Second Street, I am surprised to see that I seem to have caught up with the two little knaves. \n\nWhy, it's John, Jr. and the orphan boy! They look as surprised to see me as I am to see them, but I believe I have the upper hand in recovering my composure first.\n\n“What are you thinking?” I ask the boys, my voice rising in anger. I try to contain my disappointment, but seeing the boys' soiled hands and clothes makes me swell with fury.\n\n“How dare you go about antagonizing people and getting yourselves filthy in this disgusting refuse? John, Jr., have you lost your senses? Get back to the house, both of you, before I give you a throttling right here in the street!”\n\nI am astounded and ashamed that my son could have been involved in such a shameful affair. Though the city is in chaos, that's no excuse for my boy to begin acting like a common hooligan. I fear now that in [[the coming days|choke_2]] life in this city will become worse, much worse, before it gets any better.
<<set $ending[10] = 'true'>><<set $currentEnd=10>>\s\n<center><span class="chpt-heading">Epilogue:<br>A Lingering Mystery</span></center>\n\nOctober 27, 1793 <<set $date="October 27, 1793">>\n\nI consider myself a very lucky man. Few in our city who came as close to death as I did still live to tell the tale. \n\nI have a vague recollection of collapsing in the street, but little memory of what followed. From what I was told, the man with the dead took me to a nearby Quaker meeting house. I was delirious with fever and thirst, but they nursed me back to health. When I had recovered sufficiently, I was reunited with my family.\n\nNow, finally, a significant cooling of the weather this last week seems to have finally brought about an end to the wretched yellow fever. Why this is so, I cannot guess, but it is with mixed feelings that I contemplate the fever's departure. Of course, it brings me great joy to know that we no longer have to suffer in fear from this terrible affliction, and at last our city's dead can be properly mourned and laid to rest. \n\nAt the same time, however, this yellow fever remains a great mystery, and I am certain that our people have not seen it for the last time. I only wish that we had learned more about it while it was here. Perhaps if we had not been so lacking in the means of caring for the ill, panic would not have gripped those who remained. Perhaps there would have been more time for careful study and thoughtful contemplation of its mode of attack and mechanisms of transmission. Still, while the physician in me yearns to learn more about this dreadful fever, the man in me is grateful to have been spared.\n\n\nTHE END.\n----\n<<display 'ending tracker'>>
I step out to door filled with new resolve to fight this terrible fever, and yet, I cannot quite get over the desolation of these usually well-trafficked streets.\n\nIt seems as though fear rules in this city tonight. Those who could afford to flee the city have done so, and those who could not have largely cut themselves off from civilization, so frightened are they of the disease. And yet, I suspect that this disease can likely seep through closed doors and infiltrate the most tightly sealed homes if it so desires. For all their fear of their fellow man, are these shut-ins truly any safer?\n\nMy thoughts are interrupted by the approach of a lanky fellow in a mottled waistcoat. I should say that I am grateful that there is at least one other brazen soul traversing the streets this evening, but he has fixed his gaze upon me in a most unsettling manner.\n\n“Can I help you?”\n\nThe lanky fellow knocks me in the head with a heavy, blunt object. Reeling, I crumple to the ground. My head is spinning, but I can feel him grabbing at me, rummaging through my clothing, taking my medical bag...\n\n“Unhand me, sir. I am a physician!”\n\nBut his searching hands do not stop at their task. He continues to probe my person. He takes coins from my pocket and pries my wedding band from my finger.\n\nI can see colorful patterns of light playing before my eyes. My dizziness increases.\n\n“But sir, I am a physician,” I say once more.\n\n“Then I thank God there'll be one less of ye death-dealers preying on the poor tonight!”\n\nWith those snarled words, he shuffles off. I should pursue him before he hurts anyone else. But I feel suddenly far too weary to move. I think I must rest first, if only just for a bit...\n<<set $paths[11]="true">>\n[[Close your eyes.|mugged_death]]\n
<<if $drink gt 0>><<set $badges[11] = 'true'>><<popup 11>><<save>><<endif>>\s\n<<set $track=3>><<set $paths[5]='true'>>\s\nMr. Tilden had an abscess lanced two days ago, and it would be remiss of me not to follow up with him and make sure it is healing properly. Fortunately, Mr. Tilden's abode is not far.\n\nA brisk walk down Vine Street brings me to Mr. Tilden's house. I had feared the abscess might need another draining, but it looks to be healing remarkably well, and Mr. Tilden himself is in good spirits. I should say that my work here is done.\n\nThe next on my list is the young Holden child, who several days ago was showing early signs of scarlatina. As of yesterday, the case looked as though it would be a mild one, but I want to take no chances.\n\nThe Holdens are milliners, and their home is located at Fourth Street and Mulberry. It takes me little time to make my way there from Vine Street, but when I arrive, I am surprised to be greeted by a very anxious-looking Mrs. Holden. The child seems to be much improved, but she is alarmed by a sudden death in the neighborhood.\n\nShe points to a body being removed from an apartment across the street, and whispers to me that <html>“</html>a mysterious ague<html>”</html> struck the household. I wonder if [[this ague warrants investigating|abody]].\n\nThen again, it is more than likely a common illness, transformed into a thing of fear by vulgar gossip and superstition. [[I should not want to trouble myself|lunch]] over that kind of thing.
<center><span class="chpt-heading">Chapter 1:<br />Rumors and Omens</span></center>\n\nAugust 22, 1793\nToday the weather promises to be warm and calm, as has been the pattern for much of the summer. June and July past were atypically hot months, marked by a most troubling drought that withered grain crops in the nearby countryside, dried up creeks, and baked the city's usually-free flowing effluvia into a stagnant and foul-smelling concoction. In addition, we have seen an amazing number of flies and other insects thriving under these oppressive conditions.\n\nBut I am pleased to note that the people of Philadelphia bore the vicissitudes of our scorching summer well. As a physician, I find myself particularly well-placed for witnessing the many merits of our city's diverse constituency, and I often marvel at their remarkable resilience in even the most trying, and sometimes tragic, moments of their lives. \n\nScarlet fever had been the reigning epidemic among the children in our bustling city since the early spring, but up until recently, the cases had not been especially malignant. I did, however, have the grave misfortune of losing a boy, a mere 7 years of age, to a severe case not two weeks ago. I can only hope that it is not a sign of things to come among my other scarlatina patients.\n\nI have also seen a great many cases of mumps making their way through our city's population of late. Mostly children have been affected, but a few grown men and women have also sought me out with the typical complaints of fevers, sore throats, stiff and swollen jaws, and difficulty swallowing. I have had to treat some of the most severe cases with gentle bleedings, but most cases were successfully brought to an end with warm wraps and blisters applied behind the ears.\n\nOf course the summer months were also attended with their usual hazards: every year many unseasoned migrants to the city will lose their lives to the fevers and influenzas of the sickly season. But these caused no more distress this July than usual. The extreme heat of the summer, which was especially pronounced this July, resulted in several fatalities. Most were suffered by our elderly residents, who are generally more susceptible to extremes of heat and cold than those in the flower of their youth. The remaining victims were country laborers at work harvesting crops of grain and grass. Still, it is hardly unusual for one or two such workers to give out every year under the unique heat and drought of the late summer months, and despite the occasionally fatal effects of these various hazards, the relatively mild diseases of this June and July pointed to an auspicious summer season for us. \n\nIn these final weeks of August, however, there is the hint of a sinister change in fortunes. There is talk among the people, and even among some of my fellow physicians, of the presence of an ominous fever circulating around the docks. It is supposedly quite unlike anything seen in this city in recent memory, and it has been said that many cases of this mysterious fever have been rapidly terminating in death. \n\nI do not yet know how much stock to put into such rumors. I would be a fool to dismiss the possibility of a dangerous epidemic—Heaven knows I do not doubt the awesome and terrible power of Nature after the share of devastating ailments I bore witness to during the years of our great Revolution. Frightful outbreaks of small-pox and the bloody flux commonly ravaged our brave men and did more damage to some of our rebel camps than British bayonets ever did. Still, I hate to put any stock in frivolous rumors, and I have my doubts that this whispered disease is anything to fear. \n\nSome of our more excitable citizens have become unduly alarmed over some rotting debris left by the wharf on Arch street after the arrival of a ship from Saint Domingue. These well-meaning people have agitated themselves into a near frenzy with their belief that this foul mass is producing malignant airs believed to be the origin of this illness. I half suppose that there is no epidemic at all, save for one of epidemic madness brought on by over-worry.\n\nAnd yet, self-professed skeptic though I may be, here I am letting thoughts of this phantom epidemic consume my morning. The day does not get any younger and I have many tasks to attend to. Where shall I begin?\n<<silently>>\n<<load>>\n<<set $date="August 22, 1793">>\n<<set $currentEnd="">>\n\n<<set $talk_to_rush = "no">>\n<<set $rush_questions = 0>>\n<<set $ask_bad = "false">>\n<<set $ask_treat = "false">>\n<<set $ask_avoid = "false">>\n\n<<set $dirtycure = "false">>\n<<set $removed = "false">>\n<<set $dirtymethod = "">>\n\n<<set $drink = 0>>\n<<set $hutchinson_met = "false">>\n\n<<set $meetpru = "false">>\n<<set $flirt = "false">>\n<<set $vomit = "false">>\n<<set $maid = "false">>\n<<set $isill = "no">>\n<<set $badinvestigator = "false">>\n\n<<set $doc_dead = "false">>\n\n<<set $wife = "alive">>\n<<set $wife_promise = "no">>\n<<set $homeremedy = "false">>\n<<set $rushremedy = "false">>\n<<set $bushhillwife = "false">>\n<<set $bushhillme = "false">>\n\n<<set $grandson = "false">>\n<<set $grandsonlives = "false">>\n<<set $errandboy = 'false'>>\n<<set $sarahcrazy = 'false'>>\n\n<<set $shutup = 0>>\n<<set $children_away = "false">>\n<<set $meet_family = "false">>\n\n<<set $track = 0>>\n<<set $saved_counter = 0>>\n<<set $paths[0] = "true">>\n<<endsilently>>\n[[Have my usual breakfast at home.|home_1]]\n[[Seek out Dr. Rush regarding the rumored fever.|rush_1]]
I decide to start by seeing the fainting clerk, Mr. Berry, as his situation is possibly the more dire of the two. \n\nUpon entering the room, I am immediately struck by just how wan Mr. Berry's appearance is. Rather, there is more than just wanness to the fellow. His skin and eyes are postivitely yellow. Is this really possible?\n\n“Mr. Berry, are you in the habit of dyeing textiles for the fabric shop?” I ask.\n\nA look of disdain crosses the man's discolored face. “Of course, not,” he replies. “I am not a laborer, sir, I am the store's clerk!”\n\nThe sharpness of his reply tells me that he is insulted by my insinutation. Mr. Brewster pulls me aside and whispers “Mr. Berry is exceptionally fastidious. You ought to be more careful about what you say regarding his current appearance.”\n\nOf course, [[I should be circumspect|clerk_soft]] in addressing a patient's condition. But it is possible he may withhold valuable information if I do not [[press him a bit|clerk_hard]].
<<set $grandsonlives = 'true'>>\s\nAlthough I am not usually one to endorse recklessness, let alone, lawlessness, I feel as though I cannot leave without seeing if the boy is in fact inside this room.\n\nI knock once more and once more there is no answer.\n\nThe door does not appear to be very sturdy. I look around to see if my knocking has raised any signs of life in one of the nearby apartments, but it would appear that the neighbors are committed to minding their own business.\n\nI lean my shoulder against the door and begin to push. It does not give way immediately, but the creaking tells me it won't resist for long. With a hearty shove, I manage to push the door open.\n\nLaying on the floor is a young man, who seems no more than ten or twelve years of age. Surely this must be Cook's grandson!\n\nI immediately check the boy's pulse. He is alive, but his pulse is slow and very feeble. Dried black vomit covers the front of his shirt. There is no doubt in my mind that it is the yellow fever.\n\nI carry the boy into his bed. I must get him something to drink.\n\nThere is nothing of use in this shabbily outfitted apartment. The neighbors are my only hope. I begin knocking on doors, but I am hardly surprised that no one will answer. \n\n“I have already broken down one door tonight, must I break down another?” I yell at no one in particular.\n\nPerhaps there is a nearby pub with an open kitchen. I fear that course will take too long, but I seem to be getting nowhere here.\n\nWhat is that? At the end of the hall—do I spy a door that's been opened just a crack? I do! And I can see someone peering out through the opening. \n\nAt being discovered, the door slams shut, but it is too late. I know there is someone there now and I will not relent. I dash down the hallway and begin pounding on the door. It does not open, but I am not discouraged.\n\n“I know you're in there,” I call through the door. “There is a dying boy down the hall. You don't have to help, but I need clean water or broth. Something for the lad to drink. That's all I'm asking!”\n\nI cannot tell if anyone inside intends to respond or not, but I have no choice but to wait and see.\n\nWith every second that passes, I wonder if I will find the boy dead when I return. I pound on the door again.\n\n“Please!” I yell, not bothering to conceal my desperation.\n\nAt last, I hear the bolt being drawn. The door only opens wide enough for a withered hand to shove a large cup of warm broth through it.\n\n“Thank you. Thank you!” I yell and fly down the hallway with the broth in hand. I pray that I am not too late.\n\nThe boy appears senseless, but he is still breathing. I give him some of the broth. I am able to get him to swallow a bit. I dare not bleed him given the condition he is in, but I shall stay the night and continue nourishing him. Perhaps he will live long enough for me to bring him to Bush Hill [[in the morning|choke_2]].
I awake to a terrible headache, aching limbs, and a powerful thirst. I hate to admit it, but there is little doubt in my mind now about my condition. I surely have the yellow fever.\n\n<<display 'deathActions'>>
I am afraid I am not long for this world. I should like the chance to give a final confession before I pass into the next life. It might be a very long time before a minister can be found who will come, but I shall try to endure...\n\n<<display 'deathActions'>>
<<if $removed eq 'true'>><<set $dirtycure = 'true'>><<endif>>Yes, I am going to have to hope that Dr. Rush would find <<$dirtymethod>> a suitable method of treatment. If this is a case of the fever, Dr. Rush and other physicians should certainly like to hear about whatever success or failure comes of my actions. I shall take notes on her progress over [[the coming days|choke_1]].
Although the character of Dr. Brooks is fictional, the events in this story are based on historical fact. The Yellow Fever outbreak in Philadelphia in 1793 killed nearly 5,000 people, and a further 20,000 are reported to have fled the city at the height of the outbreak.
Now that I am arrived at the waterfront, I am not sure how I ought to begin this mission that Dr. Rush has set upon me. It would be rather unorthodox of me to simply go about knocking on the doors of boarding houses and checking on the health of the residents. Would they admit me or think me death incarnate?\n\nThere is no mistaking that this is an area hard hit by the fever, and this sad truth has only served to heighten the wariness of the residents here. People avoid public walkways, fearful that the fever may invisibly rage behind the walls of the adjacent buildings. In the street, greetings are perfunctory. Every man keeps his distance from every other. Those dressed in mourning attire are avoided as if they are the plague themselves. Everywhere the pungent odor of vinegar and camphor permeates, as people have taken to wearing the stuff about their necks and faces as a questionable means of warding off the fever.\n\nThe only instance in which caution has evidently been thrown to the wind is around the outgoing passenger vessel docked at the George Street Landing. Here men, women, and children are gathered en masse, pushing and bumping against one another in a chaotic dance. Each is jockeying for position in the hopelessly lengthy queue waiting to board. \n\nThey know they are late if they hope to escape the city. They know that every day the number of vessels willing to hazard a trip to the deadly city grows less. They know that soon, there will be no escaping.\n\nJust then, a woman dressed all in black steps forward into the crowd—a widow, no doubt, seeking safety just like everyone else. But her sudden appearance causes an odd surge in the crowd, as those nearest to her shrink away as though she were a viper.\n\nSuddenly, there's a loud crash, followed by gasps and a woman's startled cry. I move closer to see what has happened. \n\nIt would seem that in their haste to avoid the harmless widow, the surge of the crowd knocked a young lady off the docks and into the water. We can do little but watch in horror as the young woman, no doubt weighed down by her petticoat and lace, flounders and sinks below the surface of the water.\n\n[[Jump in after her.|watery_end]]\n[[Throw something to her.|no_way]]
<span class="block">Hurry man,</span><span class="hurry">decide!</span>\n\n<span class="choice1">[[Take Sarah to Bush Hill.|wife_bush]]</span>\n<span class="choice2">[[Begin treating her immediately.|wife_rush]]</span>\n\n<<timedgoto "wife_rush" 3s >>
If I had any doubts about the man's honesty before, I must say that they have been confirmed by his unconvincing answer. I will not follow this man any further!\n\nNow, how to remove myself from this situation as delicately as possible? The man continues to move forward at a brisk pace. Rather than announce my decision to abandon this questionable journey, I decide instead to stop quietly in my tracks. \n\nHe continues forging ahead, unaware that I am no longer at his heels. Now is my time to escape the treacherous man!\n\nI quickly duck into an alleyway just in time to hear the man cry out after me.\n\nDrat! He knows I'm on the run, but hopefully I am too far ahead for him to catch me. \n\nNo more time to waste on subtlety I burst into a full run, hoping to round the corner before the man catches up with me.\n\nI take a moment to glance behind me, but I do not see him following. Perfect!\n\nI turn the corner and continue trying to put distance between myself and my strange escort. I am surprised to have given him the slip so easily, but each time I look over my shoulder, the man is nowhere to be found.\n\nAt the rate I'm walking now, I should be able to reunite with the priest without too much time lost. I consider this whole affair a helpful lesson in humility. What a fool I was to get so carried away by the thought of being personally summoned by the Mayor. \n\n“Never again!” I say to myself as I approach the intersection at Third Street.\n\nJust then, the thin man turns the corner. He's too close now for me to run again. Curse my bad luck!\n\n“Now see here—” I begin.\n\n“No, you see here,” the man says, pulling out a pistol from underneath his coat. “You try that again and I'll shoot you!”\n\nMy God! Who is this deranged man? And what choice to I have now but to [[keep following him|keep_following]]?\n\n\n\n
<<set $badges[9] = "true">><<popup 9>><<save>>\s\nNow that it is evident that this fever is more than mere rumor, I feel that the only sensible thing for myself and my family to do would be to leave the city. Hundreds have already departed, and I am eager to join them in their comparative safety.\n\nI round up my wife Sarah and children and we board a ship bound for New York City, where Sarah's parents reside. The ship is crowded with scores of other would-be refugees from the city.\n\nAs we approach the port of New York, a low murmur circulates among the passengers. Something is not right.\n\nWith some difficulty, I manage to track down a member of the crew. The news is not good: the ship is being denied entry to the port. No goods or passengers from Philadelphia are being allowed into the city!\n\nOur captain decides to turn the ship around and return to the city. Despite my hopes of safely removing my family from the situation, there is no choice now. For better or worse, we shall have to cast our lot with our fellow Philadelphians and hope that we can bring about a swift end to this frightening epidemic.\n\nI usher my wife and children home as quickly as possible. Although it is not yet dark, the days are growing shorter, and I am concerned by the looks of desperation on the faces of the few Philadelphians we see traversing the streets. My family and I may be forced to remain in the city, but I am not going to be cavalier about our safety. \n\nI have seen many residents choosing to board up their windows and doors and refuse contact with outsiders in an effort to keep the fever out of their homes. Although it seems drastic, I wonder if we, too, should [[close up our home|shut_in]] in an attempt to wait out this fearful plague. \n\nOn the other hand, I am a man of science, and boarding up the house seems like such a fearful and childish action. I should instead prepare to carry out my duties as a healer so long as I remain in this city. \n\nIn fact, I see now that there is a brief notice in a newspaper from earlier this week saying that a meeting of physicians will take place this very evening. Perhaps [[I should attend|mugged_1]] and see what I can do to prepare for the days ahead.
I enter the Coffee Room and take a seat. I recognize Mr. Weaver, \nwho manages a bank, but he seems so absorbed in his papers that I do not wish to disturb him.\n\nMr. Crawford, a dry goods dealer, greets me as I arrive, but after exchanging some pleasantries, I am disappointed to discover that he knows nothing about this fever. \n\nI suppose I could [[wait]] a bit longer and see if any one else arrives. But I really ought not tarry too much longer—I really must [[call on Mr. Tilden|patients]] today.
<<set $badges[8] = "true">><<save>>\s\nI regret now that I did not previously make provisions for the dispensation of my personal property on my death, for I feel certain that my fate is now sealed. Perhaps there is time to record my wishes while I still have my wits about me.\n\nI rise from my bed, but only manage a few steps before I am overcome by dizziness. It looks like I shall have to rest a bit longer before I can attempt to put my affairs in order.\n\nMaybe I can at least write a few short words to my family...\n\n<<textinput $lastWords>>\n\nI wish I could write more, but that will have to do.\n\nI'm so tired now. [[I must sleep|feverdeath_end]].
With those words, Dr. Rush tells me that he must depart. He promises to keep me apprised of any progress he made toward finding a cure. Nevertheless, I leave him feeling that a great weight had just been placed on my shoulders. I'm not sure what my next course of action should be.\n\nI suppose there is nothing to do other than [[go about my day|patienttoboy]] and begin making my scheduled visits to patients.\n\nThen again, such unsettling revelations require careful contemplation. Perhaps I ought to [[go home and reflect|hometoboy]] on Dr. Rush's foreboding discovery.\n\n<<if $ask_avoid eq "true">>Still, I wonder if I should heed Dr. Rush's cautionary advice and [[prepare my family to leave the city|flee_1]]. From the ominous tone of his words, it may be dangerous to delay.<<endif>>\n
Dr. Rush's words echo ominously in my mind. My duty to my patients is great, but my duty to my family is greater still.\n\nBesides, if what he said is true, then it would seem that gravediggers, rather than physicians, are what this city will truly need most in the coming days. \n\nI agree to Sarah's terms and tell her that we shall all leave the city first thing tomorrow morning. I pray God has mercy on the souls of those who stay behind to face the mysterious, dread disease lurking on the Philadelphia waterfront.\n<<display "flee_end">>
<<set $track = 7>>\s\nUnneighborly though it may be, I fear that I must attempt to protect my family at all costs. We know not how this horrible disease spreads, but cutting off contact with other residents of the city seems like our best chance for keeping out the disease.\n\nI inform Sarah and the children of my decision to shut our doors until the epidemic passes. At first, Sarah expresses a distinct dislike for the idea, as does John, Jr. Of course, I can understand their resistance, but I explain to them that now that flight from the city is no longer a choice, we have no other alternative.\n\nThe days to come will surely be difficult for us all, but I shall sleep more soundly knowing that the fever will not easily creep into our home.\n\n[[For now, we can only wait.|deathhouse]]
----\n<<set $ending[18] = 'true'>><<set $currentEnd=18>>\nDr. Brooks dove into the murky depths of the Delaware River on <<print $date>> and was never seen again. He and the young woman he tried to rescue were both given up as drowned. Their bodies were never recovered. \n\n\nTHE END.\n----\n\n<<display 'ending tracker'>>
I round the street corner and find myself confronted with a most horrifying scene. The bonfire is no bonfire at all. Rather, there is a house on my street engulfed in flames. \n\nThere are volunteers working strenuously to contain the flames, but there is clearly no saving the burning house. It is wholly consumed by fire.\n\n<html> <div class = "image"> <img id="fire" src="/images/issues/2/2/fever/fire.png" /> <p class = "caption">The house is wholly consumed by fire.</p> </div> </html>\nI grab an idle gawker by the arm and ask him what has happened here.\n\n“Dunno,” he says, his words dribbling from his whiskey-scented mouth. “But I saw a man drag a kid out o' there a few minutes ago. Feller din't look too good, I'd say. Laid 'im out just over there,” he said, punctuating his last sentence with a wobbly gesture toward a pull-cart.\n\nA child pulled out of the house? What a horribly tragic night this is turning out to be. I wonder if child's parents remain trapped inside. But what house is this? \n\nNo. \n\nNo, it cannot be! \n\nI run to the pull-cart to which the drunken man had gestured. There, laid out like a scorched ragdoll, I see none other than my boy John, Jr. Rushing to his side, I look at his soot-covered body with despair.\n\n“John! John, lad, can you hear me?”\n\nAgainst all odds, the boy stirs. \n\n“John, wake up, boy! What happened in there? Where are your brother and sister?”\n\n“I'm so sorry, father,” the little man sputters in a raspy voice. “We waited and waited for you and mother to come home, but Louisa and I were so hungry and little Matthew started to cry and cry and wouldn't stop. I tried to light a fire in the wood stove to heat up some porridge. But the room started filling with smoke, and then flames began leaping out of the stove.”\n\nHis story is interrupted with a horrible cough. The boy's breath now comes to him in gasps and wheezes, but he continues his horrifying description.\n\n“I tried to save them, father, I tried! But it got so hot and so very hard to see. I just wanted to take care of them until you got home. Please don't be—don't be angry father.”\n\nWith those words he began coughing again, this time far more violently than before. \n\nI do my best to comfort the boy. He grabs my arm tightly as he struggles for air, each cough convulsing his entire body. For the second time tonight, I can do nothing but watch a loved one suffer. \n\nThen comes one excruciatingly loud wheeze and John, Jr. stops moving.\n\nI look at my boy as he lies there in the pull-cart, still and charred. It is a comfort to see him no longer struggling for breath. I gently wipe the soot off of his angelic face. I dare say he looks quite peaceful now.\n\n----\n<<set $ending[17] = 'true'>><<set $currentEnd=17>>\nDr. Brooks was found dead on the steps of the Christ Church on September 21, 1793, three nights after the death of his wife and the terrible house fire that killed all three of his children. It is not known whether the doctor at last succumbed to the fatal yellow fever, or if his heart simply broke over the loss of his entire family. \n\n\nTHE END.\n----\n<<display 'ending tracker'>>
<<set $badges[17] = 'true'>><<popup 17>><<save>>\s\nAs desperate as I am to get back to my children, the whole neighborhood is at risk so long as a bonfire is burning. I must see that it is extinguished and quickly!\n\nThe scent of the smoke intensifies and soon I hear a clamor of activity in the street just ahead of me—my street. Could it be that the bonfire has already spread out of control?\n\n<<display "fire_end">>
It is with a heavy heart that I laid my wife to rest on the 20th of September. My frantic efforts to heal her following Dr. Rush's methods were to no avail. By the end of the first evening, she felt much depleted but I bled her diligently. On the next day, I continued to purge her bowels with the pills of calomel and jalap. Although she vomited but little, she salivated greatly over the course of the day. I believed this to be a sign of the efficacy of the treatment, but to my horror, I found her dead the next morning.\n\nI began making the preparations for her burial, but was shocked to discover that a proper burial would not be possible under this extraordinary circumstances. Instead, I had to... //I had to place her body on the wagon with countless others of the city's dead//, to be buried in haste and anonymity. The horror of knowing that she shall never have a proper grave is almost greater than my horror at her death itself.\n\n<<display 'wife_dead_choice'>>\n
“If you have seen this fever, then surely you know something about how to cure it?”\n\nDr. Rush coughs a bit and sighs before giving his reply. “I'm sorry to say that our course of action is not entirely clear. I have not been able to save all the patients I have encountered thus far... not my dear friend Peter Ashton, nor Madame Le Maigre. Even Dr. Hodge, whose surgical skills were invaluable to us during the Revolution, even he lost his own daughter to the illness just a few days since.”\n\n“But—” Rush exclaims, a peculiar light gleaming in his eyes, “I refuse to abandon hope. There must be a way to cure this illness! I do not believe Providence would create a disease without also granting us the means to defeat it.”\n\n“Your determination is admirable, good sir. Still, I hate to consider the possibility of facing a patient to whom I can offer no remedies.”\n\n“Our position is unenviable, I admit,” he says. “But if our task were easy, my friend, every man would be his own physician.” Dr. Rush began to grin ever so slightly, but I can see this epidemic weighs heavily on his heart. \n\n“We just have to try harder...” Dr. Rush does not finish his sentence. He seems to have suddenly become lost in thought. Wary of interrupting, I wait and watch the great man's mind at work. \n\n“I wonder, John. I wonder if maybe that's the answer. Purges and bleedings applied too late, too gently, seem to have no effect on the fever at all. But maybe we just need to try harder!”\n<<set $ask_treat="true">>\n<<display "rush_depart">>\n
$paths[]\n\npath0 = start\npath1 = brewster\npath2 = dirty boy\npath3 = flee END\npath4 = colddead END\npath5 = patients/conservative\npath6?? = drunk END\n\npath6 = ? bushhill ?\npath7 = wife dead\npath8 = wife alive\npath9 = shut-in\npath10 = snakebit END\npath11 = mugged END\n\npath14 = Brooks dies resting death END\npath15 = Brooks hospital death END\npath16 = happy ending END\n\n\npath19 = conservative carriage END\n\n/*renumber +1 */\npath11 = remarry END\npath12 = widow END\npath13 = Brooks, kids die. Sarah crazy.\n\npath14 = Brooks dies lawyer (?)\npath15 = shut-in all die\npath16 = shut-in kids live\npath17 = jj dies\npath18 = Brooks crazy murdered \n\nLooks like 16 endings\nChapter 1: \n 0. drunk ending\n 1. ruffian colddead\n 2. flee ending\nChapter 2: \n 3. snake death\n 4. mugged death\n 5. horse death\nChapter 3:\n 6. remarry end\n 7. widowed end\n 8. extraunhappy end\n 9. widow ending\n 10. happy the end\n 11. lawyer end\n 12. shut in death\n 13. shut in survive\n 14. live w/o jj\n 15. murdered by crazy\n 16. Unremarkable ending\n\n
I depart Dr. Rush, eager to make haste across town to the home of Mr. Tilden, whose abscess I lanced a few days prior, <<display "strangeboy">>
“Of course!” I reply, releasing the woman's arm. “I apologize for my brusqueness, it's just that I believe I have made some important discoveries about this fever which I should like to communicate to Mr. Girard.\n\nThe nurse hardly looks satisfied with my apology, but she nevertheless gestures to something behind me.\n\n“Mr. Girard is over there.”\n\n“Where?” I ask. I see only rows of the sick.\n\n“That man right there, cleaning up Mr. Corday,” she says gesturing to the ateendant I had watched just moments ago. Surely that man wiping up diseased vomit is not the millionare merchant Stephen Girard.\n\nI am certain I must have misunderstood the nurse, but I approach the man just the same and ask if he can tell me where Mr. Girard is.\n\n“I am he,” he replies. He does not look up when he speaks, but continues wiping blood from the nostrils of the sick man before him.\n\nI am dumbstruck by this revelation. After what must have been a long silence on my part, the man asks me curtly if there's anything he can do for me. “I am rather busy, as you can see.”\n\nRecovering my tongue, I introduce myself and begin to explain the success I met with using <<$dirtymethod>> to treat the fever.\n\n“Perhaps you would like me to demonstrate my method here on one of your patients.”\n\n“I don't think that will be necessary, Doctor,” he replies, at last turning to face me. “I can tell by your approach that you are a student of Dr. Rush. I am familiar with your mentor's drastic methods, as well as his overwhelming desire to find a single cure that works in all cases, but we have no interest in those methods here. Here we treat the ill according to the methods of Dr. Jean Devèze. He has made the point that an infinite number of hidden circumstances are what produce changes in the animal economy. To think that one treatment will satisfy all cases of the disease is foolhardy.”\n\nI do not know who this Dr. Devèze is, but surely he is poorly informed. I try to better explain my method of <<$dirtymethod>>, but Mr. Girard interrupts.\n\n“I do not mean to be unkind, Doctor Brooks. I appreciate you coming here and should you like to lend a hand, we'd happily accept it. But you have my answer and I must get back to my work now.”\n\nAnd with that Mr. Girard bids me //adieu// and hurries off down the hallway.\n\nI cannot believe that this humble man, who is so obviously committed to helping out others, would send me away without even allowing me to demonstrate my methods. I am a physician after all. And who us he? A merchant!\n\nI am sorely disappointed by the outcome of my visit to Bush Hill. It seems I have no choice but to [[return home|fools]] defeated.
I am too weak to treat myself. If I am to survive, I know that I'll need a physician's care.\n\nI ask Sarah to send for a physician. It may be a while before she can find anyone who will come.\n\n<<display 'deathActions'>>
“You speak as though you think this is only the beginning! Do you believe this will get worse?”\n\nDr. Rush draws a deep breath before he begins his reply. “I cannot be certain, Dr. Brooks, but it the signs are ominous indeed. I fear I have seen it in our city once before, in 1762. Then, it carried off as many as 20 citizens in a day...” His voice trailed off at these words. I could tell by the look on his face that he was wondering just how many people would be carried off this time. \n<<set $ask_bad="true">><<set $rush_questions +=1>>\n<<display "rush_questions">>\n
Sarah, please hang on...\n<<timedgoto "pray2" 3s >>
After seeing Sarah suffer so terribly from the yellow fever, it seemed only sensible to send the children away. This pestilential city is no place for them, and I know I could not bear the loss of even one of them right now.\n\nFinding the means to get them to safety was not easy, however. Everyone who had the means to flee this city has by now, and towns a hundred miles away or more are refusing our refugees. Of course, sending the children to travel alone over such great distances was hardly desirable.\n\nIn the end, I was able to find a young legal clerk whose parents lived in nearby Germantown, who, for an exorbitant price, were willing to take my children in until the fever passes. \n\nI confess, the loss of Sarah has taken more out of me than I could have possibly imagined. There is a weariness in my bones that threatens to overwhelm me at least half a dozen times a day.\n\nAnd of course, there has been no abatement of this terrible epidemic. The dead continue to be carted away in droves. Sometimes entire families are lain to waste all at once by this relentless disorder. \n\nI have heard that even Dr. Rush has said that “the disorder was now past the art of man or medicine to cure, that nothing but the power of the Almighty could stop it.” He continues to fight the disease nonetheless, but I do believe I have lost the spirit for fighting.\n\nThe truth is, I have little spirit at all these days. Today I awoke with a terrible headache. Is it [[merely fatigue|ignore]], taking its toll on me after the horrors I have suffered these past few weeks? Or is it [[the first ominous sign|self_treatment]] of the fever?
Please don't die. Not now, not like this...\n\n<<timedgoto "pray3" 4s >>
<<set $wife="alive">><<set $track = 10>>\s\nIs she getting stronger...?\n\n<<timedgoto "choke_2" 5s >>
Sarah didn't make it.\n\n<<timedgoto "choke_2" 5s >>
I know a local printing shop where I've taken an ad out before. I make haste, hoping I can get my announcement to be printed in tomorrow's edition.\n\n<html> <div class = "image"> <img id="printingpress" src="/images/issues/2/2/fever/printingPress.png" /> <p class = "caption">The shop was empty save for one man.</p> </div> </html>\nWhen I arrive, I am a little surprised to see the print shop looking so empty. Usually, there are men stamping out papers and boys hustling to deliver them. Gentlemen of all stripes tend to cluster about the place, waiting to take out advertisements or to discuss the latest goings on. \n\nToday, I see only one man, and he is busy laboring at the main press. I wait a moment to see if there is someone else taking orders at the shop, but it seems not.\n\n“I'd like to take out an ad in tomorrow's paper,” I call out to the man.\n\nHe doesn't even look up from his work to answer me. “Soonest it could go to press would be next Tuesday. We're only publishing once a week right now.”\n\n“I thought this was a daily,” I reply. Am I somehow at the wrong office?\n\n“My journeyman is dead and my apprentices are either sick or fled the city. I've already had to cut down the size of my publication from eight broadsheets to two. You want to place your ad or not?”\n\nWhat an irksome answer. Perhaps I have not made myself clear to the man. “But this is about the fever,” I explain. “I believe I've discovered a technique that will cure people. It's urgent that you disseminate it right away!”\n\n“Look, mister, I'm sure you mean well, but over the last few weeks I've printed notices for the Mayor, for the estimable Dr. Rush, for the harbor physician, and for the College of Physicians all arguing about this fever, and none of 'em knowing really how it works or how to stop it.”\n\n“Which is exactly why my ad is of particular importance!,” I reply. I am starting to become exasperated with this man and his lackadaisical attitude toward my good news. “Look, man, I am a physician. I don't weigh in on your business and I don't expect you to know anything about mine. Will you print the ad or no?”\n\nAt my words, I notice a considerable change in the printer's expression. He stops inking the press and walks straight over to me. At last, he's going to treat my request with the appropriate seriousness!\n\n“Listen here, you goodfernothing charlatan, normally I'm not one to weigh in on whether the patent medicines you types sell really do all the say, but I'll not let you bring more distress to our already suffering city. Get out of my shop. Out!”\n\nI try to protest, but with each emphatic jab of his finger his face grows redder and redder. I half fear he will have an apoplectic fit if I press him any further. I find myself practically running out of the printer's shop to avoid the man's explosive wrath.\n\nIt seems I will not be taking out an ad after all. I guess I will have to [[go home|fools]] and think of a new strategy.\n
<<set $ending[14] = 'true'>><<set $currentEnd=14>>\n<center><span class="chpt-heading">Epilogue:<br>A Hollow Victory</span></center>\n\nOctober 27, 1793 <<set $date="October 27, 1793">>\n\nAt last, a significant cooling of the weather this last week seems to have finally brought about an end to the wretched yellow fever. Why this is so, I cannot guess, but it is with mixed feelings that I contemplate the fever's departure. Of course, it is a relief to know that we no longer have to suffer in fear from this terrible affliction and that at last our city's dead can be properly mourned and laid to rest. But the knowledge that my John Jr. is among those dead is simply too much for me to bear.\n\nMy son was my light and my hope, and I have not been able to recover my spirits since his loss. Sarah and the children try their best to console me, but it is to no avail. I shall never again in this life see my beloved son, and I shall never again don the robes of the healer. \n\nThis terrible fever exposed to me the terrible hubris of the physician who stands in the path of the combined forces of Nature and Providence. I regret now that I did not flee the city when I had the chance. Perhaps then my son would have survived. \n\n\nTHE END.\n----\n<<set $paths[17]="true">>\n<<display 'ending tracker'>>
Damn!\n\nI do not understand why people would not want to at least try my method of <<$dirtymethod>>. If it has even the possibility of saving lives, is it not worth pursuing? I do not know if it is fear or ignorance or both that blinds these fools to the opportunity they are missing, but it disturbs me to think how many in this city may suffer for it.\n\nI arrive home in so foul a mood that it takes me a while to notice my wife continually casting nervous glances in my direction. I ask her what is making her fidget so, but she avoids answering.\n\nAfter much back and forth, I am at last able to wrest the truth from her: the baby Matthew seems to be sick. Naturally, I demand to see the child immediately.\n\nIndeed, the boy does look ill. Although he is yet too young to easily communicate the nature of his suffering, I must say that his symptoms do seem to bear an alarming resemblance to those of the yellow fever. His skin is hot and dry, his crying and restlessness suggest a great discomfort, and he begs for drink. \n\nIf the boy has the yellow fever as I suspect, my treatment could save his life. Should I [[begin <<$dirtymethod>>|begin_treatment]] now?\n\nOr am I too close to this? Maybe I should [[ask another physician|another_physician]] to consult on this case.
<<set $badges[15] = "true">><<popup 15>><<save>>\s\nI ask the young lady if she would join me in the carriage, but she politely declines. “With our housemaid ill, it's up to me to fetch some staples from the grocer.” It is at her insistence that I instruct the driver to turn onto Market Street where the Brewster family textile shop and residence is located. \n\nWhen I arrive, the storefront is surprisingly unattended. I call out and a voice booms from the residence upstairs.\n\n“Is that you, Doctor Brooks? Please, Sir, come upstairs straightaway!”\n<<display 'brewster_2'>>
<<clearsave>>\nAll local save data has been erased. \n\n[[Start a new game|Start]]
Flattered though I may be at the prospect of being personally invited to meet with the Mayor, I am just not sure that I trust this man. I decide it is safest to buy myself some time.\n\n“Thank you for the invitation,” I say, as politely as possible. “But I really must attend to this man's parish first. I will of course stop by Mayor Clarkson's office just as soon as I am finished here.”\n\n“Oh no, no, Dr. That won't do. You really need to come now,” he says.\n\nThen he turns toward Father Smith and says, “You understand, don't you Father? It really is terribly urgent.”\n\n“Oh, that's all right Dr. Brooks,” Father Smith suddenly chimes in. “If the Mayor is summoning you, you ought to go. My parishioners will wait.”\n\nDrat! I never thought I would resent a priest for his humility, but I confess I am quite displeased by this turn of events.\n\n[[Refuse.|run_away]] \n[[Go with the man.|go_with]]
<<save>><<achievements>>\n\n<<if $ending[1] eq "true" && $ending[2] eq "true" && $ending[3] eq "true" && $ending[4] eq "true" && $ending[5] eq "true" && $ending[6] eq "true" && $ending[7] eq "true" && $ending[8] eq "true" && $ending[9] eq "true" && $ending[10] eq "true" && $ending[11] eq "true" && $ending[12] eq "true" && $ending[13] eq "true" && $ending[14] eq "true" && $ending[15] eq "true" && $ending[16] && $ending[17] && $ending[18] && $ending[19]>> \nCongratulations, you have found all the endings to the story. Thank you for playing!\n<<else>>\nYou have selected one of several different possible outcomes to this story. Try playing the story again to find all the endings and achievements.\n[[Click here to play again!|Intro]]\n<<endif>>\n<<endings>>\n\n
Normally, I would politely refuse such a indisposition, but the odor in here is quite noxious, and I personally should prefer to depart with the sharp scent of nitre in my nostrils rather than this stench.\n\nI descend into the basement and begin scanning the shelves looking for nitre. There are so many dust-covered bottles and jars piled in what looks to be no particular order. I am starting to think that it will take me an eternity to find what I seek.\n\nHold on. What's that large bottle on the back shelf? Is that is the bottle of nitre? I can't quite reach it. I'll need to [[find a step ladder first|nitre]]. But wait... what is that peculiar noise? [[Maybe I should investigate that first.|snakepit_2]]
Although I do not doubt that great struggles lie ahead, I cannot let blind panic and fear get the best of me. I must not act with cowardice now, not while the city needs me. I shall stay behind and face whatever scourges may come.\n\nI feel better already having cast aside the thought of abandoning my responsibilities as a healer, but I cannot help but wonder if I really ought to [[make my family share in my fate|allstay]]. Of course, my skill as a physician offers them some protection from whatever ailments may cross our threshold. But what if my skills are not enough? [[I want my family to be safe.|familyflee]]
try {\n version.extensions['saveloadMacro'] = { \n major:1, minor:0, revision:0 \n };\n macros['save'] = {\n handler: function(place, macroName, params, parser) {\n var badges = state.history[0].variables.badges;\n var endings = state.history[0].variables.ending;\n localStorage.setItem('TheFever_badges',JSON.stringify(badges)); \n localStorage.setItem('TheFever_endings',JSON.stringify(endings)); \nconsole.log(badges); \nconsole.log (endings); \n },\n init: function() { \n\n },\n };\n\n macros['load'] = {\n handler: function(place, macroName, params, parser) {\n if (localStorage.getItem('TheFever_badges')) {\n console.log("saved data exists");\n state.history[0].variables.badges = JSON.parse(localStorage.getItem('TheFever_badges'));\n }\n if (localStorage.getItem('TheFever_endings')) {\n console.log("saved data exists");\n state.history[0].variables.ending = JSON.parse(localStorage.getItem('TheFever_endings'));\n }\n },\n init: function() { \n\n },\n };\n\n macros['clearsave'] = {\n handler: function(place, macroName, params, parser) {\n if (localStorage.getItem('TheFever_badges')) {\n localStorage.removeItem('TheFever_badges');\n state.history[0].variables.badges = [];\n }\n if (localStorage.getItem('TheFever_endings')) {\n localStorage.removeItem('TheFever_endings');\n state.history[0].variables.ending = [];\n }\n },\n init: function() { \n\n },\n };\n\n} catch(e) {\n throwError(place,"saveload macro Setup Error: "+e.message); \n}
h3{\n text-decoration: underline;\n}\n
<center><span class="chpt-heading">Chapter 3: <br>A City in Ruins</span></center>\n\nOctober 9, 1793<<set $date="October 9, 1793">>\n\nI have but little knowledge of how things progress in the city. The sound of the church bells ringing for the death of each new fever victim used to be my way of keeping track of the state of the city, but lately, they have ceased tolling.\n\nIt is a relief not to hear their mournful sound echo inside our sweltering home, but I don't believe for one second that the fever has yet passed, I still hear daily the sound of the wagons passing through the streets, the drivers calling out, “Bring out your dead!”\n\nRather, I suspect that either the churches have given up their tolling for the sake of the living, or worse, there remains no one to ring the bells. Whatever the case, I am finding the silence more ominous than the incessant ringing.\n\nMore worrisome still are the emerging signs of fever within my own home. Our baby Matthew, is, I am almost certain, nearing his final hours. He has been sick for almost five days straight. At first I thought maybe he suffered from the heat of the house, which had become quite oppressive after our decision to shut the windows and doors.\n\nHowever, two days ago we relented and opened some windows in order to take in cool breezes from the east. We succeeded in making the house tolerable, and at first the baby seemed relieved. But within a day, his crying resumed. This time, his restlessness was accompanied by vomiting and a yellow tint to his eyes.\n\nToday I awoke with a terrible headache, aching limbs, and a bit of soreness in my throat. Sarah likewise complains of aches and headaches. Is it the fever, I wonder, or are we merely depleted by our efforts to keep poor Matthew soothed?\n\nI confess I wonder now if boarding ourselves up within our house was a sound plan. After all, it seems it may not have kept us safe from the wretched yellow fever, and it has caused us much discomfort, not to mention alienation from our friends and neighbors.\n\nMy eldest boy, John, Jr. seems to be suffering from the confinement the most. He does not appear ill with fever, but ill with the restlessness of youth. Each day he looks at me with such sadness and longing, although he never complains. \n\nEvery day [[I tell him to stay strong|stay_inside]]... but maybe today, I should [[let him go|save_john]] gather news in the city.
Where am I?\n\nAm I awake? \n\nAm I alive?\n\nWho's there? Sarah? Sarah is that you? Have you come back for me? Come to escort me into the hearafter?\n\n“Shh, relax. Try to drink some water.”\n\nHow did she know that I am so terribly thirsty? Ah, that water is such a soothing balm against my hot, parched throat.\n\nSarah, Sarah is that you? I'm so tired, Sarah.\n\n“Go back to sleep, Dr. Brooks. Everything will be okay.”\n\nMmm, sleep does sound nice. [[Sleep|awake]].
<center><span class="chpt-heading">Prologue</span></center>\n\nI first arrived in Philadelphia a little over nineteen years ago. I grew up in Albany, the son of a draper. From an early age my intellectual pursuits turned toward the scientific. I was fortunate to come under the tutelage of some of Albany's most accomplished physicians, but I longed to experience the best medical education that the colonies had to offer. \n\nI made my application to the medical school of the College of Philadelphia, and moved to the city in the summer of 1774. I took in anatomical lectures at the Surgeon's Hall on Walnut & Fifth Street, and I applied myself diligently to the treatment of the poor at Pennsylvania Hospital. I had the opportunity to work with some of the sharpest minds in medicine, including the estimable and accomplished Dr. Benjamin Rush.\n\nIt was with great ambition and sense of duty that I followed in the footsteps of Dr. Rush when he offered his professional services to the Continental Army as our colonies fought for their independence. There I bore witness to much suffering and hardship, only some of which proved remediable by my physician's skills. For every shattered limb I set and every fever I cooled, it seemed that five more died of injury or disease. It was a disquieting experience for a tender young doctor like myself, but adversity only renewed my commitment to the healing arts. At the conclusion of my services, I returned to Philadelphia and began to establish a practice within the city. \n\nIn that first year returned to the city, I was a man greatly preoccupied with dropsies, cataracts, fevers, pleurisies, and fistulas, and yet I knew my work would suffer if I failed to allow myself time for a little frivolity. I managed to spare a few evenings a week to attend the local dances. And what a fortuitous choice that was, for it was at just such a dance, on a blustery cold January evening, that I was lucky enough to attract the attention of a Miss Sarah Fitch—the fairest young lady in the room. \n\nThat lovely young lady and I went on to spend many an evening dancing together before I grew bold enough to court her in her own home. Although her father worried what kind of life a physician could provide for his daughter, his mild objections blissfully fell upon deaf ears, and Sarah agreed to become my wife. Within ten months we were wed, and a little over a year after, our first child, John Jr. was born.\n\nNow I am blessed to have three healthy, bright-eyed children and this month of August, in the year of our Lord, 1793, marks the beginning of my fifteenth year serving as a practicing physician in the fair city of Philadelphia. I pray that in the coming years we shall continue to be blessed with the same great fortunes we have experienced thus far.\n\n[[Let us begin our tale.|Intro]]
I chastise myself for having ever followed that boy. I am now far from where my patients are and far from having done any work today.\n\nI am not quite certain what the quickest path away from this unpleasant part of town may be, but my heart sinks as I find myself across the street from the Three Jolly Irishmen, one of the most notorious establishments in the city.\n\nNoise and drunken sailors spill out of the debauched establishment. I put my head down and try to pass by the riotous scene without being noticed.\n\nIgnoring the loud choruses of their ribald drinking tunes, I walk as briskly as I can without breaking into a run. But it seems that luck is not on my side.\n\nJust as I approach a narrow entryway into one of the more garishly decorated buildings of the neighborhood, several women burst through the door and directly into my path. I cannot move out of the way quickly enough; we collide and one of the women falls to the ground. \n\nEmbarrassed to knock over a lady, I hasten to help her up. I extend my hand to aid her and then realize my mistake. This “lady” is no lady at all, but rather a harlot emerging from her brothel. Revolted, I pull my hand away and try to extricate myself from the scene as quickly as possible.\n\nAs I hasten away from these polluted women, the whore on the ground begins to shout curses at me. Suddenly, two burly, brutish men step out of the shadows and block my path forward. I try to brush them aside, but they will not be deterred.\n\nThey seem to be in the employ of the brothel-owner, protecting the house's “goods” from ruffians and thieves. I tell them to unhand me, but I find myself being dragged into a dark alley very much against my protests. I see the glint of cold steel flash in one of the brute's hands just before I feel it pierce my abdomen...\n<<set $paths[4]="true">>\n\n----\n<<set $ending[1] = 'true'>><<set $currentEnd=1>>\nYour ill-fate in Hell Town has put you out of your misery before the city's most deadly epidemic even began.\n\nDespite Dr. Brook's skepticism, a fever was indeed growing in Philadelphia, and between the months of August and November, nearly 20,000 Philadelphians would flee the city, while an estimated 5,000 others who stayed behind would die of a terrible and mysterious pestilence.\n\nBut, as you have discovered, the fever was not the only dangerous aspect of life in the city of Philadelphia in those days. Hell Town was home to many of the city's poorest and rowdiest citizens, as well as the city's many temporary visitors who landed at the busy docks on a regular basis. \n\nWhile not all of the residents had bad intentions, there was no shortage of lawlessness or characters of ill-repute in this part of town. Criminals, vagrants, prostitutes, gamblers, fugitive slaves, the disabled, and the insane all called Hell Town “home.” \n\n\nTHE END.\n----\n<<display 'ending tracker'>>
If I am being honest, I must confess that the headache alone is not my only symptom. Aching limbs and a bit of soreness in my throat leave me with little doubt as to what my future holds.\n\nRecognizing these symptoms early may be a crucial step in surviving this fever. But knowing how chaotic the city is now, I think my chances of finding sound treatment from another physician are grim indeed. My best chance of weathering this fever seems to be to treat myself. \n\nI shall begin taking purgative right away, and administer a bleeding this afternoon. Hopefully, if I am aggressive enough, like the good Dr. Rush, I shall survive.\n\n<html><div class = "image"><img src="/images/issues/2/2/fever/ellipsis.png" /></div></html>\nMy first dose of calomel and jalap worked its magic, and in short time I produced copious evacuations. Dr. Rush would assure me that this is a promising development, but I am afraid it has done little to stop my aching or ease my weariness. My tongue and throat feel so unbearably dry. I must try to consume more cold fluids.\n\n<html><div class = "image"><img src="/images/issues/2/2/fever/ellipsis.png" /></div></html>\nI remain steadfast in the application of Dr. Rush's proposed treatments, but I am not certain how much longer I will be able to administer them to myself. I have begun vomiting a foul black substance. But I am relieved to say my thirst has diminished, even though at times I feel like my throat is barely open.\n\nI am too weak now to perform another bleeding and at this moment I feel terribly weary. But my spirits are much lifted from earlier. I am sure that with just <<if $meetpru eq 'true'>>[[a bit of rest|angel_of_mercy]]<<else>>[[a bit of rest|feverdeath_end]]<<endif>>, I shall find myself safely carried through this crisis.\n
<<set $maid = "true">>\nI decide to see to the sick servant first. Although their illnesses may not be related, it is possible that the servant's current state may reveal vital clues regarding the prognosis of the clerk.\n\nA second housemaid leads me to the servant's quarters in the back of the building. Even though a small, east-facing window has been propped wide open, the narrow room is still quite dark and uncomfortably warm. The acrid scents of sweat and vinegar permeate the cramped quarters.\n\nI find the maid to be in a much-depleted state. My escort informs me that this is the fifth day of the old Irishwoman's sickness. She was in great distress yesterday, but today, her complaints seem to be of a comparatively mild variety. She still complains of great thirst, and her skin is dry and sallow, but the considerable vomiting that I have been told was taking place yesterday appears to have ceased altogether.\n\nThe previous physician prescribed a gentle dose of calomel as a purgative three days prior, and this seems to have brought the woman some relief. I can see why her sad, watery, sunken eyes are unsettling to the other members of the household, but no matter how her outward appearances affect the untrained eye, I cannot say that I see anything particularly exceptional about this stage of her illness. I suspect the calomel, combined with a regimen of broth and Madeira wine, will bring her to a full recovery soon. \n\nNothing that I see here convinces me that any especially malignant disease has taken residence under this roof. I am wont to simply recommend the Brewsters cease their unfounded worries and explain to them that [[I will not further indulge their fears|fearnot1]]. I could [[attend to the swooning clerk|swooningclerk]], just to be certain, but I worry that lending any further credibility to their concerns might be the very thing that enables total panic to at last overthrow reason's already tenuous grasp on the household.\n
My wife always says that I must not let my curiosity get the better of me, and this seems like one of those occasions in which her advice is especially prudent. \n\nAs the carriage drives by, I put all thoughts of the woman out of mind and return my attention to the bigger issue: what can I do in the fight against this fever. \n\nThe driver steers the carriage onto Walnut Street and it occurs to me to stop by Dr. Rush's house and see if he has any news. <<if $talk_to_rush eq "yes">>I know he was only just starting to make sense of this disease when we last spoke, but perhaps he has made better progress now.<<else>>I regret that I was unable to call on him before now, but I am sure that my old mentor will have some insights regarding this fever.<<endif>>\n\nI tell the driver of our new destination and within a few short minutes, I find myself standing at Dr. Rush's door.\n\n<<display 'rushAgain'>>
“The Fever” has 20 unique endings and 20 different achievement badges you can earn based on your choices during each playthrough.\n\nTo make it easier for you to know which paths you have previously taken, this game automatically stores your achievements locally to your browser. This means that every time you come back to this story on your computer, the list of achievements and endings you have unlocked will be saved, so you can keep exploring the story at your own pace. Unfortunately, save data cannot be shared across devices or browsers.\n\nOf course, you don't need your previous saves to enjoy reading through “The Fever.” These are just available to make it easier for you to see how much of the story you've explored!\n\nThis game was built to be compatible with most modern browsers (Chrome, Firefox, Safari, IE8+). If you encounter any technical problems, please report them to [[support@theappendix.net|mailto:support@theappendix.net]].\n\nIf you would like to erase all your local save data, you can do so by [[clicking here|clear-confirm]].\n
<<if $grandsonlives eq 'true'>><<set $badges[13] = 'true'>><<popup 13>><<save>>\s\nI was happy to be able to see both Mr. Cook and his grandson safely through their illnesses. The boy lingered at death's door for a great many hours, but I was able to sustain him long enough to get him to Bush Hill where he and his grandfather eventually recovered.\n\nI do not know if it was our medicines or their resilience which brought them to survive where so many others have died, but it has given me a much needed ray of hope during these otherwise grim days.\n<<else if $errandboy eq 'true'>>\s\nThe messenger boy I sent over to check on Mr. Cook's grandson never returned. I was thus forced to check on Cook's grandson myself the next morning and unfortunately found the boy dead. The black stains on his clothes and blood on his face tell me he was taken by the fever. \n\nWhether the errand boy met this same fate or whether he merely fled rather than face the possibility, I will never know. \n<<else>>\s\nI had to report to Mr. Cook my failure to locate his grandson at their apartment. The old man was appreciative of my efforts, but the mystery seemed to weigh heavily on his mind. I can only hope that he was able to find the young man after he was discharged from Bush Hill.\n<<endif>>
<<if $badges[8] eq 'true'>><<popup 8>><<endif>>\s\n----\n<<set $ending[16] = 'true'>><<set $currentEnd=16>>\nDr. Brooks closed his eyes for the last time on <<print $date>>. <<if $lastWords>>Before his death, the left the following note: \n\n"<<print $lastWords>>"<<endif>>\n\nHis valiant efforts to treat his fellow Philadelphians cannot be said to have been in vain, but they ultimately cost him his life.\n\n\n\nTHE END.\n----\n<<display 'ending tracker'>>
I have seen my way through many troublesome cases merely by consulting my medical texts, and while my library is humble, I am sure I almost alway find some sage advice from Cullen or Brown.\n\nHowever, today, I spend what feels like an eternity leafing through my trustworthy companions and find them ill-suited to the task at hand. I can only hope that Dr. Hutchinson proves better informed than myself regarding this disease.\n\nNo sooner does the thought enter my mind than John comes bursting into my office.\n\n<<display 'physicians_2'>>
“I'm sorry, Sarah,” I say. “I won't refrain from performing my duties as a physician based solely on your intuitions and unfounded fears. I must do as I see fit.”\n\nI do hate to quarrel with Sarah, but I fear that her delicate female sensibilities prevent her from appreciating the obligations that come with my position. I cannot shy away from my duties as a physician. If there is some new illness infecting the city, I must fight tirelessly to cure it, not run from it. \n\nSarah can see that my mind is made up. She sighs and begins to adjust my shirt collar. “You're a good physician, John, but lacking in devotion to your family.” \n\n“I beg to differ! It is precisely because of my family that my mind is fixed. Would you prefer that our children grow up knowing their father is a man of conviction or a man controlled by fear?” I ask her.\n\nWithout hesitation she replies, “I simply prefer that our children live to grow up.” \n\nAs sure as I am of my decision, I find myself having much difficulty in meeting my wife's withering stare.\n\nPushing away from Sarah's grip, I clear my throat and firmly announce, “I shall see the Brewsters' servant immediately.” I kiss the children and leave hurriedly before Sarah can say another word.\n\nMr. Hieronymus Brewster lives along the elite corridor, in a well-decorated apartment located above his textile store. When I arrive, the store seems to be in a state of moderate disarray. Although the store is usually attended by one of two male clerks, today Mr. Brewster's eldest daughter, Prudence, is minding the shop. It is highly unusual to see a woman of her refinement and social standing minding the shop. \n\nShe smiles warmly as I enter the store. When I explain the nature of my call, she is all too eager to send me upstairs to meet with her father. \n<<set $wife_promise="no">>\n[[Go upstairs straightaway.|brewster_2]]\n[[Make a few inquiries of Miss Brewster first.|brewster_1]]\n
“Your concerns are not without merit, although I hate to do anything that might be seen as shrinking from my duties as a healer...”\n\n“But,” Sarah asks, her eyes piercing me, “he hasn't sought you out, has he? What duties would you be shrinking from?” \n\nAnother fair point, and a point to which I have no response. It seems I shall have to concede this time. \n\n“It looks like I am on the losing side of this debate,” I reply. “As you wish. I promise, Sarah dear, I will not go to the Brewster residence.” \n\nSarah breathes a sigh of relief at my words. I would normally chastise her for letting John, Jr.'s words work her up so, but the truth is, I am a bit relieved myself. \n\n“However, I cannot neglect all my duties. I do have patients to call on today. Surely, you will not forbid me from treating them, too,” I ask her teasingly. \n\nSarah's face remains stern, but she relents, of course, to my request and bids me be careful on my daily rounds. \n\nOur discussion has delayed my departure longer than I would like. Quickly, gathering up my daybook and tools, I make haste to leave. Although I am not usually in the habit of taking a carriage to all my calls, today I am in a hurry and so I summon a driver.\n\nAs we approach Market Street on my way to my first patient's house, I hear my own named being called out in a desperate feminine voice.\n\n“Dr. Brooks! Dr. Brooks! Please wait!” \n\nI tell the driver to hold and look for the insistent caller. I turn around to see the Brewsters' eldest daughter, Prudence, waving at my carriage. \n\n“Please, there's a terrible illness sweeping our household,” she says. “We are desperately in need of your services.”\n\nI know [[I promised|resist_brewster]] Sarah I would not seek out the Brewster household, but [[I cannot refuse|to_brewster]] a direct plea such as this.\n<<set $wife_promise="yes">>
“What do you mean, John?”\n\n“Why, I mean the fever, Father.”\n\n“Who has been talking to you about that?”\n\n“It is hardly a secret. One of Mr. Hieronymus Brewster's servants is said to be afflicted.”\n\n“Is that so? Well, John, you should not trust blindly in everything you hear. There is no reason that I can see why we should fear for our lives just yet. And there is no certainty that Mr. Brewster's sick servant has anything at all uncommon.”\n\nAlthough John says nothing, I feel I can detect a sense of disappointment in those precocious eyes. \n\n“Still, perhaps I shall call on Mr. Brewster later today and see if I can offer any assistance.”\n\nJohn's face brightens at last. He seems satisfied knowing that his father is on the case. Normally, I would delight in being the object of his boyish pride, but I can find nothing delightful about this unsettling news of the servant's illness. Sarah, too, seems disquieted by the revelation.\n\nAs I excuse myself from the table and prepare to depart the house and begin my rounds, Sarah quietly catches my attention.\n\n“You're not really going over there, are you, John?”\n\n“To Mr. Brewster's? Possibly. Why?”\n\n“I don't want that disease in my house, John. Think of our children...”\n\n“Sarah, please. As yet, there is no justification for your alarm. The disease is mostly likely spread by bad, noxious airs. You'd do more to preserve the children by keeping fresh-flowing air in the house than by forbidding me from doing my job.”\n\n“But you don't know for certain, do you? Perhaps it spreads as the pox does—by contact with an infected person. Please, John, just promise me that you'll stay out of that house until someone knows more about this.” \n<<set $paths[1]="true">><<set $track=1>>\n[[I cannot promise Sarah that I will stay away.|home_4]]\n[[I will promise to avoid the Brewster residence.|home_5]]\n
<<set $shutup = $shutup + 1>><<if $shutup gte 2>><<set badges[5] = 'true'>><<popup 5>><<save>><<endif>>\s\n“John, I am shocked by your lack of manners today. What kind of terrible question is that to raise at the breakfast table?”\n\n“I heard some boys saying something the other day that God was sending a terrible plague to kill us.” he says matter-of-factly.\n\n“John, I am surprised at you,” I scold. “It is bad enough that a smart boy such as yourself would believe such a specious rumor, but then to repeat it like this, with your mother and sister present. Have I taught you nothing about discretion, son?”\n \nJohn looks somewhat stung by my sharp reply, but he drops the matter just the same. Sometimes, I simply cannot fathom where the young man gets his ideas or his impertinence. \n\nAs much as I hate to leave the table with such an awful question still lingering in the air, I feel that [[I should begin checking on my patients|patients]].\n\nThen again, I'm hardly in the mood, after hearing John, of all people, echo the same grim prognostication of a plague that I've been hearing all week. Maybe I will [[first stop by the City Tavern|tavern]] and listen to the local gossip over a pint before I begin attending my patients.
Today I must check in on Mr. Tilden, whose abscess I lanced two days ago, but I should not like to miss breakfast.\n\nIt is always such a pleasure to be able to take breakfast with my devoted wife, Sarah, and our three lovely children. The baby Matthew is not yet two, but already he shows signs of great strength and intelligence. And little Louisa, whose fourth birthday is fast approaching, is a constant source of delight. \n\nI cannot deny, however, that the true apple of my eye is my eldest son, John, Jr., who is such an astute young lad that I often forget he is still just barely seven years of age. He is delicate in physique, but his keen eyes reveal a mental acumen which, if I am being truthful, I cannot claim to have possessed when I was a lad of the same tender age. This morning, however, he is particularly precocious, and he asks me a most curious question.\n\n“Father,” he says, scrutinizing me with those piercing eyes of his, “are we all going to die soon?”\n\nI am aghast! Whatever could the boy mean by asking such a morbid question?\n<<set $meet_family = "true">>\n[[Ask John what he means.|home_2]]\n[[Scold the boy for asking such an impolite question.|home_3]]
As I leave the docks, I can't stop Dr. Rush's ominous words from echoing in my mind. “Leave the city and stay away until this illness passes.” I know that as a physician, I have some duty to put myself in harm's way to [[bring respite to the ill|stay]], but do I not have a duty to protect my family, as well? The only way I can see to do that would be to [[leave the city|flee_rush]].
I had not anticipated that Sarah would have such a strong position on the matter. I can understand why she does not want to see the family split up—it is certainly not an option that I had been looking forward to. Still, seeing her firm opposition to the possibility, maybe it was a choice that I was too hasty in considering at all.\n\nShould the worst come to pass, I suppose that I agree with Sarah that it would be better to suffer it together than miles apart. And I would much prefer to have my family under my own watchful eye rather than possibly suffering illness under the care of strangers. \n\nDr. Rush is a wise man, no doubt, and the time for flight may come eventually, but now is not the moment to be sending my wife and the children to travel alone into adventures unknown. \n\n“We shall stay in the city a while longer,” I tell Sarah.\n\n“So be it,” Sarah replies. “If there is a fever here, John, we will weather the storm together.” I do worry if I am doing the right thing, but I take comfort in the look of strength and resolve on my wife's face. \n\nNow, although I would like nothing more than to investigate this fever, I do have patients who are expecting my attention today. If I am going to remain in the city, I should not spend this time neglecting my patients. I give Sarah a kiss and make haste to the home of my first patient, Mr. Swan Tilden.\n\n<<display "patients">>
<<set $paths[19] = 'true'>>\n“I'm sorry, Sir,” I say to the wiry man, “but my mind is made up. The Mayor shall have to wait.” \n\nTurning to the priest, I ask him to continue to lead the way to Willing's Alley. He looks at me with surprise, but makes no objection.\n\nWe walk along in silence a few moments, and I am relieved that the strange man does not seem to be following.\n\nUnfortunately, it seems my relief came too soon, for I am certain now I hear footsteps racing up from behind us.\n\nTurning, I see the thin man bearing down on me with a pistol drawn. \n\n//A pistol!?//\n\nI am certain I have no idea what this man's vendetta with me is about, but I am not sticking around to find out.\n\n“Run!” I say to the priest.\n\nI take off as fast as my feet with carry me. I am no athlete, but I am hoping I will not need to run far. I'm sure if I can just make it to the corner, I can lose the man in one of the alleys around here.\n\nI am almost to the corner now. I glance behind me to see how close my pursuer is. I seem to have pulled away quite a bit. I cannot hear his words, but I can see the man is bellowing furiously at me.\n\nI burst triumphantly into the intersection and quickly scan the street for the most promising route of escape. \n\nSuddenly, I feel a most curious sensation of being knocked off my feet. I'm sure I hear the loud whinny of a startled horse just before I hit the ground. I should have looked for carriages before dashing into the intersection!\n\n<html> <div class = "image"> <img id="carriage" src="../img/carriage.png" /> <p class = "caption">Suddenly I feel a most curious sensation...</p> </div> </html>\nSomething hard and heavy crashes down upon my leg. Another falls upon my chest. \n\nI can't breathe...\n\n<<display 'horse_end'>>\n\n