For a few seconds, everyone seemed to be holding their breaths as they waited to see if Brennan would do what he said. Foreman didn't let his glare soften, and finally Brennan marched out. Good riddance. At least now they could concentrate on plausible ideas. Foreman desperately wanted to rub at his forehead, push away the headache that had been nagging at him for most of the day. "Start running blood cultures for botulism," he said tiredly, resting his hands on the back of the chair in front of him, bowed down a bit. "I want someone with her at all times in case the paralysis advances. Start her on antibiotics and give her an enema." All standard treatments for botulism, and nothing that would conflict with anything she'd been given before, either the steroids or the interferon. "Look for confirmation, in the home, at the racetrack."

He glanced around the room. So far it seemed like they were listening to him, which was more proof that he'd been right to get rid of Brennan. "We'll rerun the other tests to double check. I don't want her dying from organ failure while we look for something else. If you have any brilliant ideas, let the rest of us know before you decide to treat." He knew that Amber wouldn't miss his censure in that last sentence, but he thought she might pick up on what he'd implied about organ failure, too. Aggressive lupus might kill Casey too fast for them to act; MS was slower and long-term. He'd acknowledged her idea might have had merit. He just hoped that would be enough until they could get through the case and find out what was really going on.