No Distance Too Far (21 page)

I am wondering if you would be willing to send me, at this address, some medical equipment and supplies. Anything you could spare would be greatly appreciated. I have heard that the shortages of basic things like antiseptics and bandages are appalling. I want to make sure I have plenty of quinine for myself so that I do not succumb to malaria. Since I hope to be sent out to the bush, I will need surgical equipment too.

I hope this isn’t too much to ask. Please forgive my boldness. Right now my mind is racing with all that I need to accomplish before I leave. Thank you in advance for any help you can give me. Oh, I was wondering too if you know of someone else I can contact with this request?

I remain in your debt,
Dr. Astrid Bjorklund

Astrid fell asleep thinking of mosquito netting and a long voyage by ship. What would she do during all that time at sea?

———

A RAIN CLOUD decided to sit right over their heads the next day, causing the students and faculty to hurry between buildings with their umbrellas held high. Water ran off the roofs and down the long heavy chains that directed it to run into the underground lines to carry it away. Astrid thought of the rain barrels at home that would be set to catch all this wealth of water. They always washed their hair with the fresh water in the rain barrels because it smelled so sweet and came squeaky clean.

Rev. Thompkins stood before his class, smiling and greeting them as they came through the door.

Astrid studied him, recognizing the same things she had the day before. He looked pale, shaky. How do you walk up to one of your teachers and ask, “Sir, how are you feeling? Are you sure you are all right?”

Instead, she stopped beside him and asked in a low voice, “Have you talked to your doctor lately?”

He whipped around and stared at her. “No. Why do you say that?”

Now he thinks I’m a fool.
“Just some things I noticed. I . . . I think it might be a good idea.”

“I see. I will take that under advisement. And now let’s begin our class.”

Astrid took her seat and glanced around. Dr. Gansberg and his wife weren’t there. She shook her head. She’d like to have talked this over with the doctor to see if he noticed what she did. Maybe she was making this up, seeing goblins where there were none.

Halfway through the class Rev. Thompkins took a step forward, seemed to stumble, and then slumped to the floor.

Astrid was on her feet and at his side before any of the others shook off their shock and began to move. She loosened his necktie and checked his pulse. “Get a stretcher in here now.”

Two of the men jumped to do what she said.

Rev. Thompkins was turning whiter, if that were possible. Astrid put her fingers on his carotid artery. Irregular. He was cold too. Was he bleeding internally? Heart? Stroke?
God, help me.
His circulation must have stopped somehow.

She began to massage the left side of his chest, and a little color crept into his face. But she could tell his body was in shock. She glanced around the room to see if there was anything she could use. “Bring me his coat from the coatrack,” she ordered, “and any other coats or sweaters. Put a stack of books under his feet and legs.”

A sweater was offered to her, and after rolling it and placing it behind his neck, she spread his coat over him, adding other jackets as the men shared theirs.

“I called the infirmary. They have a bed ready for him,” Peter said at her shoulder.

“I think they will need to send an ambulance. But have someone search for Dr. Gansberg. And I need a stethoscope.”

“Where can I get one?”

“Infirmary.”

He charged out to do her bidding. The men returned with the stretcher and laid it on the floor.

Astrid stood. “Okay, you take his feet,” she instructed, “and you take his shoulders. Lift him carefully on three and lay him on the stretcher.” She counted, and they got him moved. She tucked his hands in at his sides. “Now let’s have four people, one on each corner, and we’ll carry him as quickly as possible to the infirmary.”

They did so, meeting Dr. Gansberg coming down the hall. He turned, pulling a stethoscope out of his pocket as they continued. He put the ends in his ears and the chest piece inside the reverend’s shirt.

“Stop for a moment,” Astrid ordered. The bearers did.

“Let’s go again,” Dr. Gansberg said. “His heart is skipping beats.”

Astrid held the doors open so they could enter, and the school nurse led the way toward a bed with the covers folded at the bottom.

“What happened?” Dr. Gansberg asked. Astrid told him, keeping her eye on Rev. Thompkins.

“I said they should call the ambulance.”

“You are right. Did they?”

“The ambulance is coming down the street,” one of the stretcher bearers said from the window. “Should we take him out to the door right now?”

“Yes.”

With Rev. Thompkins tucked into the ambulance and Dr. Gans–berg in with him, Astrid stepped back.

“No, you come too,” the doctor said. “You were the first to see his symptoms.”

“We’re ready. Do you want to meet us at the hospital?” one of the ambulance men asked. “Or come now?”

Astrid climbed into the ambulance and took one of her teacher’s hands in hers.
Lord God, you know what is going on. Thank you that
we could be here for him and that you can heal him. Please, Lord, this
man does so much for all of his students. Let us keep him here.

THE NEXT MORNING Dean Highsmith entered the breakfast room. “I have an announcement,” he said as the room quieted down. “Rev. Thompkins is stabilized and recovering due to the quick response of our own Dr. Bjorklund. Thank you for being observant and knowing what to do.” He nodded to her and began clapping. The others joined in. Astrid wished she could stop the blush she could feel burning her face.

Thank you, Father,
had been her offering all night, once she heard he was breathing better and his heart had resumed its normal beat.

After breakfast she went to the front desk, purchased stamps, and put her letters in the outgoing mail. She paused, trying again to understand all the implications of this decision. How would her family cope with the news? She thanked the woman at the desk and turned to go to her first class.

Dean Highsmith caught her going by his office. “Dr. Bjorklund, a telephone call just came for you. You can talk here in my office.”

Her heart in her throat, Astrid picked up the dangling earpiece. “Hello.”

“Astrid, this is Thorliff. You must come home immediately. Elizabeth might be losing this baby, and Mor said we desperately need you here. We have to save Elizabeth.”

She composed herself enough to ask several questions about Elizabeth’s condition.

“I’ll catch the next train.”

She hung up and turned to face the dean. “I have to go home right away. There is a family emergency with my sister-in-law, Dr. Elizabeth.”

“I’ll have Marlin call the train station and find out when the next train leaves.” He turned to confer with his secretary.

While she lifted the phone, the dean took Astrid’s hands in his. They were warm and strong. “Dr. Bjorklund, the words I spoke to you yesterday are the same today. God triumphs. He brought you here for His purposes. Wherever that leads.”

16

BLESSING, NORTH DAKOTA

I
ngeborg, you cannot keep up this pace.”

She stared at her husband through eyes that felt as scratchy as a day-old mosquito bite. With a deep sigh she said, “What else am I to do? Tell everyone not to get sick, not to have any accidents, and above all, not to birth any more babies?” She’d just come home from being all night with one of the newer families south of town. While the baby had been slow to come, he’d entered the world with a healthy yell. Sometimes that was the way with first babies.

“They could have brought her to you at Thorliff’s so you didn’t have to travel so far.”

She smiled up at him and leaned against his side, the chair she was sitting on creaking resentment at her movement. “And who was it that drove me out there and slept the night on their floor so he could drive me home after the grand arrival?”

“Well, at least I slept.” Haakan stroked her hair with a callused hand. “I thought those days and nights of doctoring were over for you.”

“They would be if Elizabeth hadn’t gone and gotten pregnant again. For all she loves caring for others, her own body seems to betray her in this matter of having a baby.” She looked up at Haakan again and whispered, “I am so afraid we are going to lose her. Then how will we manage with Astrid in Africa . . . and Thorliff . . .” She shook her head. “He will have a terrible time with this.”

“Aren’t you borrowing trouble? Like you say to never do?” He moved his fingers to rubbing her neck, digging deep with his thumbs in the tender spots.

“Ja, I guess I am, and I do know better. I thank God that He has a plan and that He is indeed in control.”

“I hear a
but
in there.”

She groaned with relief as his hands kept up their healing work. “But when I get so tired, those sick and frightening thoughts sneak in, and before I know it, they’ve taken up housekeeping.”

“Right now you are going to your bed to sleep until you wake. I will take Freda to town to watch over Elizabeth, and we will post a sign that the surgery is closed for the day. Only if there is an emergency where life is being threatened will I let them call you.”

“I should sleep at Elizabeth’s.”

“You will stay right here.”

“Between Freda and Thelma, Elizabeth will stay in bed and sleep.”
Please, Lord God, let it be so. I am so tired.
She followed Haakan to the bedroom and sank down on the edge of the bed.

He turned back the covers and knelt to unlace her shoes. He pulled them off carefully, rubbing her feet for a moment. When he looked up, she was half asleep but aware of his ministrations. He tipped her over on her side, lifted her legs, and tucked them under the sheet and light blanket. With each motion he touched her gently, his fingers lingering to soothe away the lines dug into her forehead. With the cover around her shoulders, he leaned over, kissed her forehead, and paused a moment with his hand on her shoulder.

When he left the room, he closed the door with a subtle snick.

Hours later, Ingeborg could no longer ignore the need to relieve herself, so she sat up and swung her feet to the floor. She’d slept so deeply that she hardly remembered crawling into bed. Haakan had been at work for sure. Grateful anew for the bathroom the men had installed over the winter, she washed her hands and face afterward and smoothed the flyaway strands of hair back with still-damp fingers. The house was quiet. Where was Emmy? Did Freda take her with her?

No one in the kitchen, but a pot was simmering on the back of the stove. Catching back a yawn, she stared out the screen door. No one on the porch. From the angle of the sun it was now late afternoon. Where was everyone?

Her big orange and white cat joined her at the door and chirped her request for the door to be opened. Ingeborg complied and followed her outside. The wondrous smell of growing spring wafted by on the breeze. A robin swooped with one of the bits of yarn she’d knotted loosely on a nail on a porch post and took it up in the cottonwood tree to add to her nest. The mister followed close behind, blue yarn in his beak.

Hearing a child laugh, she looked out across the field to see Ellie striding the path, Carl and Emmy running and laughing before her. That answered the question of where Emmy was. Ellie had fifteen-month-old baby May in a sling on her back and her sunbonnet shielding her face.

Emmy looked up as if drawn by an invisible string. Her “Gamma’s up” echoed across the field, and she took off running, leaving two-and- a-half-year-old Carl behind to run as fast as he could. He could not keep up with the girls yet, much to his disgust.

“Gamma! Gamma! We baked cookies.” Emmy was swinging a tin pail, which no doubt contained her treasures. When she got to Ingeborg, she threw her arms around her legs and hugged as if she’d been gone for days rather than hours. Looking upward, her brow wrinkled. “You sick?”