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Advance praise for Janet Gilsdorf and TEN DAYS
"A heart-twisting spiral through one family's nightmare and their journey home. Authentic and insightful, Ten Days is a mesmerizing gem that reminds you to laugh, to weep, and to relish all that binds us together in love."
--Carol Cassella, national bestselling author of Oxygen and Healer
"One doesn't have to be a parent to be deeply affected by the story of the Campbells. From the opening scene tension rides high and there were moments when my hand trembled turning the page. Janet Gilsdorf writes with a surety that allows her to bring this difficult, dramatic tale to its life-affirming conclusion and leave the reader wanting more."
--Holly Chamberlin, author of Last Summer
"An absorbing can't-put-down novel. A page-turner to the end, Ten Days is a must read. . .a book that you will long remember."--Roberta Gately, author of Lipstick in Afghanistan
"I was riveted by this family's journey to the edge and back. There is just enough medical detail to make the events crisp and authentic. Anyone who has ever cared for a child will feel for Anna and Jake as they fight to save their baby. This is a novel you won't want to miss."
--Rosalind Noonan, author of The Daughter She Used to Be
they started coming here.” She had followed the state law on that, had the parents bring copies of their vaccine records when the kids started. She sloshed the mop head up and down in the water. Maybe he could help her. “Are the other kids going to be okay?” she asked. “They won’t get sick, too, will they?” “We certainly hope not. That’s why I’m calling, so we can work together to be sure no one else becomes ill.” He told her that Eddie’s meningitis was caused by bacteria. “Streptococcus
flickered a smoky crimson color. Then it blinked off. Number 5 lit up. She expected it to blink off right away, but after two breaths, 5—Eddie’s floor—still glowed red. From above, a hollow, metallic sound rolled, ever louder, into the quiet and echoed through the elevator shaft like thunder. She looked toward the ceiling, tried to see whatever had rumbled into the car several floors up. It sounded as if the giant from Jack and the Beanstalk were stomping overhead, as if Jack and Jill were
learn and are pretty funny.” An hour later, they exchanged phone numbers. The next week he learned that Forrest Gump was playing at the State Theater. He wanted to see it with Anna. Would she go with him? He debated with himself for three days and finally, his finger quaking, dialed her number. “Hi, Anna. This is Jake Campbell.” He tried to sound calm. “Jake. Good to hear from you.” She sounded excited; her voice rang like a crystal bell. They held hands during the show, laughed together at
many possibilities, most of them not at all worrisome.” “Like what?” The young doctor returned the bedside chart to its hook. “Maybe he caught a virus here in the hospital. Or, maybe he’s reacting to one of his medications. Or he may have a mild pneumonia from lying so still or maybe a urinary tract infection from his bladder catheter. We’ll check a few tests to make sure he doesn’t have another serious infection, but I’m not worried about anything bad happening. His ventilator settings are
on his own.” She wanted to take baby steps toward this big move. Without the tube he might stop breathing and they might not be able to get it back in again. He’d turn blue. His body would become limp and still, again. He’d die. “That wouldn’t be a good idea.” He folded his arms across the front of his white coat. “See, the tube is quite a bit longer than Eddie’s windpipe—about twice as long—so a lot of his breathing effort would be used to move air up and down the long tube rather than in and