The Iceberg Guy (1)
The Iceberg Guy: An 'Oppenheimer' for the AIDS era
I have begun writing ‘The Iceberg Guy’, my fictionalised, dramatised account of the AIDS pandemic up to April 23rd 1984.
The premise: A revitalised public health official aims to rebuild his career and marriage as he leads America’s response to AIDS.
This is the intial summary of the outline.
‘In June 1981, the CDC’s Kaposi's Sarcoma and Opportunistic Infections Task Force selects James Cooper as its chairman. For the next three years, Cooper and his team of epidemiologists and scientists, work tirelessly to unravel the medical mystery of the century. Their work comes to fruition in Washington DC on April 23rd 1984, when the US government announces to a joyful world that the cause of AIDS has been found.’
I will be posting each first draft chapter as I complete it. I encourage, nay, implore, you to provide me with feedback after each posting.
Here are Chapters One and Two
Chapter One - Monday, April 23rd 1984
Washington DC - 7am. The Club Quarters Hotel.
‘Jenny?’
‘On her way. A special day requires a special effort.’
‘She’ll be stunning.’
‘Yes.’
'More coffee?'
‘Have you ever known me to turn it down?’
‘I asked you the same question exactly three years ago. Probably at exactly the same time. Do you remember that?’
‘Yes. I gave you exactly the same answer.’
‘You did.’
‘No matter how hard I try to forget, I just...’
‘Can’t?’
‘No. I never will.’
‘None of us will. That was the day it began.’
‘For us, yes.’
Chapter Two - April 23rd 1981
Atlanta, Ga. 7am. Centers for Disease Control
'More coffee?'
‘Have you ever known me to turn it down?’
‘You look grim, Jim.’
‘Very funny. You’d look the same if you’d spent the night here.’
‘Thanks. So, what’s the story?’
‘I crashed here.’
‘You told me that already. I want to know why.’
‘Me and Jenny.’
‘What about you and Jenny?’
‘It’s over.’
‘What happened?’
‘The CDC happened. Swine Flu happened. Reagan happened. Atlanta happened. Shit happened. Everything happened.’
‘That’s a lot of happenings. Was there one in particular that provoked this particular split?’
‘No. A combination of all of them coming together. They’re all inter-connected. Everything is.’
‘Go on then. Tell me.’
He noticed she was holding a sheet of paper.
‘Have you got time for this?’
‘Sure, I have. I start at eight. This is my time not the CDC’s.’
‘They promised me career development.’
‘Who did?’
‘The CDC. I was in Tennessee researching gonorrhoea. I enjoyed it so much I got the public health bug and applied for Career Development right here. A decade later and a developing career has hit the buffers.’
She pulled up a chair.
‘Don’t put yourself down. You’ve got a good job. You’re doing a good job. A great job in fact.’
‘Thanks. Unfortunately, no-one else seems to agree with you. I’ve been stuck here in this office in the Venereal Disease Control Division for five years. Unless I do something, I will remain here until I pack my cardboard box and they wave goodbye to the ‘Gonorrhoea Guy.’
‘The Gonorrhoea Guy? Jim, come on. No-one calls you that.’
‘Jenny does for one. Don Bartholomew for two. For that I have Swine Flu to thank. Thank it very much. Two words maybe but they very much make up a sentence. A life-sentence.’
‘Does Jenny really call you that?’
‘Yes. Every time I see her, which admittedly nowadays is not very often, first thing she says is ‘‘Oh, oh, look out, here comes Jim Cooper, the Gonorrhoea guy.’’ Bartholomew says exactly the same thing.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘She told me last evening, over the phone of course, that she’d had it with Atlanta. She calls it ‘’the prison’’. Which in many ways it is. It’s a big village. Everywhere you go you see people from the CDC. Add in the heat, the humidity, no wonder she’s pining for New York. But you know all about that, don’t you, Maggie?’
‘I’m too busy to pine for anything. Too busy being Dr Herpes.’
‘I guess we all have our crosses to bear. Anyhow, the election of Reagan is going to be the final straw. For the CDC, for me, for everyone. My reputation hasn’t recovered from Swine Flu. Neither has the CDC’s.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Come on, Maggie. You’re many wonderful things, but you’re not naïve. You know damn well what Washington has started doing to public services. What it intends to do. Unless you’re a military man, or woman, all hope has gone. Budgets are going to be slashed to the bone and then slashed some more.’
‘You’re being overly dramatic. If there’s one industry which you can guarantee will keep on growing, it’s one connected with venereal diseases. We’ve got a job for life here. People aren’t suddenly going to stop having sex. Look at the gay guys. Their STD rates are going through the roof. That’s good for our line of work. Speaking of which….’
‘The best we can hope for is that we are put in a box marked privatised and get packed off somewhere less hot, less humid and less of a goldfish bowl.’
He drained the last of his coffee.
‘I tell you this much, I’m not hanging around to see that day arrive.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘I’m following Jenny out of Atlanta.’
‘New York?’
‘No. Detroit. Notre Dame’s looking for Public Health lecturers. I’m thinking a professor’s life wouldn’t be so bad and I could find a new woman. One who wouldn’t call me the Gonorrhoea Guy.’
He stood up and walked to the machine.
‘More coffee?’
‘Have you ever known me to turn it down?’
He placed the two plastic cups on the desk.
‘What do you think?’
‘About?’
‘Me leaving.’
‘I think you’re wrong to be so pessimistic. People will forget about Swine Flu and the CDC is bomb-proof, indestructible.’
‘I really wish I had your optimism, but I just can’t see it. It’s hard to un-tar a brush. We’re stained forever.’
‘My gosh, you’re feeling very sorry for yourself today. However, before you pack your box and head to the train station, where people will gather to wave the ‘‘Here today, gonorrhoea tomorrow guy’’ off, I want you to do one last thing for me.’
‘Which is?’
‘Read this.’
‘What is it?’
‘It’s a report Wayne Shimera called in from LA. He wants it to go into the next MMWR.’
‘What’s it say?’
‘Read it.’
‘Just tell me.’
‘Pneumocystis Pneumonia, Cytomegalovirus in 5 homosexuals - Los Angeles. In the period October 1980-April 1981, 5 young men, all active homosexuals, have been treated for biopsy-confirmed Pneumocystis carinii pneumonia at 3 different hospitals in Los Angeles. Two of the patients have died.’
‘How did it reach you?’
‘The secretary brought it to me.’
‘Why?’
‘I’m Dr Herpes.’
‘You haven’t mentioned herpes.’
‘Remind me, which family of viruses does Cytomegalovirus belong to?’
‘Sorry. Continue. Please.’
‘Thank you. All 5 patients had laboratory-confirmed previous or current cytomegalovirus, CMV, infection.’
‘Right, I see. Anything else?’
‘All 5 have candidal mucosal infection.’
‘Interesting.’
‘I haven’t finished, yet.’
‘Sorry.’
‘The diagnosis of Pneumocystis pneumonia was confirmed for all 5 patients ante-mortem by closed or open lung biopsy. The patients did not know each other and had no known common contacts or knowledge of sexual partners who had had similar illnesses. The 5 did not have comparable histories of sexually transmitted disease. 4 had evidence in their blood of past hepatitis B infection but none of current hepatitis B. Two of the 5 reported having frequent homosexual contacts with various partners. All 5 reported using inhalant drugs, and 1 reported intravenous drug abuse. In both patients who died, postmortem examination showed residual P. carinii and CMV pneumonia.’
‘Let me see, please.’
After five minutes, Cooper picked up his pen and wrote two words across the top of the front page.
‘Hot stuff!’
Chapter three will follow soon….
Regards,
Paul
i find the bold italic font to be really quite harsh on the eyes..