{"product_id":"the-woman-with-the-cure-isbn-9780593438060","title":"The Woman with the Cure","description":"\u003cb\u003e\"Huge applause... women have always been in science—despite those who would pretend otherwise.” --Bonnie Garmus, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times \u003c\/i\u003ebestselling author of \u003ci\u003eLessons in Chemistry\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe gave up everything — and changed the world.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eA riveting novel based on the true story of the woman who stopped a pandemic, from the bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eMrs. Poe.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003eIn 1940s and ’50s America, polio is as dreaded as the atomic bomb. No one’s life is untouched by this disease that kills or paralyzes its victims, particularly children. Outbreaks of the virus across the country regularly put American cities in lockdown. Some of the world’s best minds are engaged in the race to find a vaccine. The man who succeeds will be a god.\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003eBut Dorothy Horstmann is not focused on beating her colleagues to the vaccine. She just wants the world to have a cure. Applying the same determination that lifted her from a humble background as the daughter of immigrants, to becoming a doctor –often the only woman in the room--she hunts down the monster where it lurks: in the blood.\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003eThis discovery of hers, and an error by a competitor, catapults her closest colleague to a lead in the race. When his chance to win comes on a worldwide scale, she is asked to sink or validate his vaccine—and to decide what is forgivable, and how much should be sacrificed, in pursuit of the cure.\u003ci\u003e“The Woman with the Cure \u003c\/i\u003eis a scrupulously researched history lesson wrapped up in a modern exploration of the evolving role women have played in society. Dorothy Horstmann and her contemporaries deserve their place in America’s medical hall of fame and Lynn Cullen’s resurrection has done them justice.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eAtlanta Journal Constitution\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Everyone knows Sabin and Salk created the polio vaccine, but without the work of Dr. Dorothy Horstmann, there never would have been a vaccine in the first place. So huge applause to \u003ci\u003eThe Woman With the Cure\u003c\/i\u003e for bringing Dorothy's brilliant work to the forefront\u003cb\u003e—\u003c\/b\u003eand for reminding us that women have \u003ci\u003ealways\u003c\/i\u003e been in science\u003cb\u003e—\u003c\/b\u003edespite those who would pretend otherwise.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cb\u003e—\u003c\/b\u003eBonnie Garmus\u003ci\u003e, \u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eLessons in Chemistry\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“In \u003ci\u003eThe Woman with the Cure,\u003c\/i\u003e Lynn Cullen illuminates the story of Dr. Dorothy Horstmann, a scientist who was instrumental in discovering the polio vaccine. Through meticulous research and elegant prose, Cullen pens an important and timely story of one of the previously unheard voices of medical history in the race to cure a pandemic and the result is a rewarding read that both enlightens and entertains.”\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e—Pam Jenoff,\u003c\/b\u003e \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e Bestselling Author of \u003ci\u003eThe Woman with the Blue Star\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\"With emotional honesty and prose that rings with lyrical detail, Lynn Cullen expertly takes us back to the world where polio slays our children and a pandemic places us in isolation. Cullen shows us who we might be without the genius of women who are willing to put it all on the line for a cure. From behind the eyes and heart of a woman determined to save a generation of children by hunting down a cure,\u003ci\u003e The Woman With the Cure\u003c\/i\u003e is an enlightening and immersive read. Working against time and mystery, Dr. Dorothy Horstmann must not only battle the mysterious virus but also a system that can’t bear a woman at its center. Dorothy’s scientific imagination shook the medical community, and Lynn Cullen’s re-imagining of her life and work is powerful, visionary and inspired.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cb\u003e—\u003c\/b\u003ePatti Callahan Henry,\u003c\/b\u003e \u003ci\u003eNew York Times \u003c\/i\u003eBestselling Author of \u003ci\u003eSurviving Savannah \u003c\/i\u003eand \u003ci\u003eBecoming Mrs. Lewis\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“The warm and wonderful \u003ci\u003eThe Woman with the Cure\u003c\/i\u003e, brings brilliantly to life the story of the real Dorothy Horstmann, whose extraordinary discovery made possible the vaccines that ended the polio pandemic of the 1940s and 50s. Lynn Cullen’s novel deftly breaks down the science and brilliantly delivers a complex cast of characters in a compelling page-turner of a novel about the race for the cure to that pandemic, and pulls from the shadows of history this extraordinary woman who literally changed our world. I could not put this astounding story down.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cb\u003e—\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/b\u003eMeg Waite Clayton, \u003c\/b\u003einternational bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eThe Postmistress of Paris\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Lynn Cullen shows off her mastery of the craft in a thrilling and heart-wrenching tale about the race to eradicate polio. We meet Salk, Sabine, and the countless other figures who worked together—and sometimes against one another—to save lives. We also meet mothers, wives, and other women whose sacrifices enabled progress. But at the center of the story is Dorothy Horstmann, the brilliant but unheralded American heroine who charted her own course with one clear goal in mind: saving lives. And it was her discovery that enabled the vaccines. This timely and important novel will touch you, inspire you, and leave you with a sense of hope about what dedicated scientists can achieve.”\u003cbr\u003e—\u003cb\u003eStephanie Dray\u003c\/b\u003e, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times \u003c\/i\u003ebestselling author of \u003ci\u003eThe Women of Chateau Lafayette\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"In \u003ci\u003eThe Woman With the Cure\u003c\/i\u003e, Lynn Cullen gives us a meticulous and engaging account of Dorothy Horstmann, another woman whose accomplishments have been overshadowed by men. Without Dorothy’s determination and courage there would be no vaccine for polio, and in this engrossing, timely read, we finally know how much she and so many other women like her sacrificed in order to accomplish the impossible. HERstory at its finest.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cb\u003e—\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/b\u003eMelanie Benjamin\u003c\/b\u003e, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e Bestselling Author of \u003ci\u003eThe Aviator’s Wife \u003c\/i\u003eand \u003ci\u003eThe Children’s Blizzard\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"In this all-engrossing and poignant historical novel, Lynn Cullen expertly brings this unsung heroine’s story to the forefront with her portrayal of a fearless woman whose accomplishments largely eclipsed those of her male colleagues and helped save a generation of children. The research that must have gone into this novel is mindboggling and yet Cullen delivers it with the skill of a masterful storyteller. I was rooting for Dorothy the whole way through. Her journey will inspire and stay with readers long after the last page is turned.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e \u003cb\u003e—\u003c\/b\u003eRenee Rosen,\u003c\/b\u003e \u003ci\u003eUSA Today \u003c\/i\u003eBestselling author of \u003ci\u003eThe Social Graces\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cb\u003eLynn Cullen\u003c\/b\u003e grew up in Fort Wayne, Indiana, and is the bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eThe Sisters of Summit Avenue\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eTwain’s End\u003c\/i\u003e, and \u003ci\u003eMrs. Poe\u003c\/i\u003e, which was named an NPR 2013 Great Read and an Indie Next List selection. She lives in Atlanta with her husband, their dog, and two unscrupulous cats.1\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNashville, Tennessee, 1941\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSay, Horstmann, want to meet a jerk?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe voice seeped into the melee in which Dorothy, a modern-day Gulliver, was being roped down by tiny little men. Apparently, she'd stumbled into the little guys' mysterious world, and they were hopping mad.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe peeled open an eye. In front of the cardboard boxes in the storeroom where the residents liked to steal a nap, a baby-faced redheaded man was peering down the front of his white gown at her. Probably not a dream. Barry Montgomery was a resident at Vanderbilt, same as she. But she wasn't sure. She'd slept thirty minutes over the last forty-eight hours-not uncommon these past ten months at Vandy-and her senses couldn't be trusted.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe shut her stinging eye. \"Do I?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Oh, I think you'll want to meet this one, if the nurses are any indication.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOver the radio that Dorothy forgot she'd turned on, the sound of clacking typewriters announced the end of orchestral music and the start of a news program. She pushed herself upright and snapped off the receiver.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Don't you want to hear the news?\" Barry had a newborn baby and two kids, but with his carroty cowlick and ruddy cheeks, he looked like he should be carrying a slingshot and harmonica in his pocket, not tongue depressors and an otoscope. He was thirty, a year older than she was-did she look so young? \"What country do you think the Germans are invading today?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEven half-asleep, unease slithered into her gut. On another side of the planet, horrible things were happening, yet they were carrying on here in the States as if this were not so. This was not sustainable. \"Are there any more countries in Europe left for them to occupy?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Russia.\" Barry's stethoscope bounced against his white gown as he pulled her to her feet. \"Upsy daisy! Come get a look at this character-if you can see him through the wall of panting nurses.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I can't believe I'm giving up precious sleep for this.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Yeah, yeah. You can thank me later.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHer dream hadn't quite left her as Barry prodded her down the hall. It must have come from studying Group A streptococcus under a microscope earlier. What robust lives bacteria lived! When they found themselves in a favorable new situation, like a plate of blood agar, the happy little hedonists rejoiced at their good luck and threw themselves into a frenzy of feasting, after which they procreated, then procreated some more, until there was nothing left to squeeze out of life and then they died. She was almost fond of the tiny terrors, so bold, so hungry, so hell-bent on having it all. She would have been fond of them, had they not claimed millions of human lives.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAn ominous mechanical whoooooossshhh-GROAN, whoooooossshhh-GROAN broke into her thoughts. Behind the windows of the polio ward, nurses could be seen rushing between toddlers crying in their cribs and kids laid out in full-body casts. Other nurses tended to the source of the metallic moaning, the ventilators containing individual children.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn medical school, Dorothy had asked, once, to be put into an \"iron lung,\" to see how it felt. A tall teenage patient had just graduated to a cuirass respirator, the kind that fits on the patient's chest, and had vacated his extra-long chamber model. Two nurses hesitantly agreed to Dorothy's request, glancing at each other when she laid herself down on a gurney.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Transfer me in!\" she'd said. A crinolined lady taking a picnic to watch the first battle of the Civil War could have been no more jovial.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe nurses wheeled her next to the ventilator and, in a real-life Gulliver's Travels situation, heaved her up from the stretcher and dropped her onto a cushioned tray. They then slid the tray into the tank and closed the coffin-like lid, latching it shut with just her head jutting out.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Ready!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSomeone turned it on. With a clank and a groan, the machine wound up. Pressure bore down on Dorothy's chest as if an elephant had sat on it. Then, after every scrap of breath was flattened out of her, the elephant got up; a tsunami of oxygen rushed in. She was drowning in air when the elephant plumped down again, vacuuming it out of her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe pounded the sides of the tank. From somewhere in her lungs, she scraped together the wind to gasp. \"Help!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe nurse-Dorothy still remembered her name, Trudy-put her face inches from Dorothy's, her breath smelling of the Wrigley's tucked between teeth and cheek. \"Go along with it. Let go. Let the machine do the work.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I can't!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDorothy felt a hand grab hers-Trudy had reached into one of the portholes. \"Yes, you can.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHumiliatingly near tears, Dorothy let the device squeeze out the air left in her and then push in new oxygen. She breathed, not on her terms, not comfortably, not naturally, not happily, but she breathed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEven now, that fear still felt fresh as she scanned the row of machines, the mirror positioned over the end of each reflecting the terror, bewilderment, or resignation of the child within. Her job as a doctor was to fix these broken kids. Worse, they actually thought she could.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBarry plucked at her arm. \"Come on, Horstmann. You're not going to beat polio today.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"What if I do someday?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe laughed. \"Sure you will. And I'm finding the Fountain of Youth.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDown the corridor, a crowd had formed at the nurses' station. The man in the center didn't seem much older than she was. He was almost comically handsome, with a matinee idol's dark hair oiled in waves and a dapper mustache. He even had a Laurence Olivier-like cleft in his chin. Judging from his expensive pin-striped suit, he could have actually been a celebrity, or else he came from money. Most people in her profession had money in their background, at least they did at the upper-echelon medical schools. Women were scarce in a place such as this; women from families like hers, even scarcer. In fact, she had so far yet to meet another person like herself in her field. She was the human equivalent of a unicorn.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBarry addressed him over the nurses. \"Doctor, I'd like you to meet somebody.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe nurses, seeing that a physician was speaking, even if only a resident, cleared a path for Barry.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Excuse me.\" Dorothy tried to get through, too, but the nurses were not conditioned to falling aside for a woman. \"Sorry. Sorry.\" She squeezed a nurse's arm in apology after knocking into her, then held out her hand to Young Dr. Suave. \"I'm Dorothy Horstmann. Nice to meet you.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe stopped talking long enough for his gaze to travel the considerable distance up and down her doctor's gown. She braced herself. Go ahead. Say it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe put out his hand. \"Dr. Horstmann, nice to meet you. Albert Sabin. This is my colleague\"-he ushered forward the young man next to him-\"Robbie Ward.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDr. Ward, as big-boned and brawny as a football player, pulled back his chin to gawk at her. \"You are tall!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAh, there it was. Somehow, seeing a six-foot-one woman pressed a lever in most people's brains, and those three words instantly shot out. It was uncanny.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe shook his head in appreciation. \"You are a lot of blonde.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe supposed the bird's nest atop her head qualified her as a blonde. She smiled for Dr. Ward, not wanting him to be embarrassed should he realize how idiotic he sounded, then turned to Dr. Sabin. \"Aren't you the one who advised doctors not to perform tonsillectomies in the summer because of their connection to polio?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe bowed. \"I am.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"How old were you when you wrote that paper?\" Barry asked. \"Ten?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Twenty-six,\" Dr. Sabin said. \"But even a ten-year-old could have suspected that performing surgery in polio season might be a bad idea.\" He crooked a corner of his mouth. \"More often than not, the obvious is true, yet we ignore it.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOh, yes. He was that Dr. Sabin, the boy wonder. She'd heard about him when she was fighting her way through medical school back in San Francisco. While he was in medical school, he'd devised a test that doctors around the world still used to more quickly identify the type of bacteria causing pneumonia. Word was that he'd been offered the chance to head up pediatric research at the University of Cincinnati, a minor research institution until he'd arrived there. Many colleagues were said to be rubbed wrong by his cocksureness, irritated by his belief that he was leaps ahead of every other living being in his thinking, but Dorothy didn't see how that made him any different than most other medical men.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNow he started down the hall as if he were a chief showing off his hospital and not a young visiting doctor. Dorothy and the others followed three abreast, with Dr. Ward eyeing her as he walked next to her, as if to measure who was the taller.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"What brings you to our humble clinic?\" Barry asked Dr. Sabin.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDorothy detected sarcasm. There was nothing humble about Vanderbilt. People liked to think of the university as the Harvard of the South. Some newly minted MDs chose to do residencies at the hospital simply for its prestige, Barry among them. While she could certainly use the prestige, Dorothy chose Vandy because, well, it took her. Even that had been an error. Dr. Morgan had forgotten that Dr. D. M. Horstmann was a woman when he'd accepted her based on her record. He still hadn't figured out how to get rid of her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRobbie Ward answered for Dr. Sabin. \"Top secret.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Not really,\" said Dr. Sabin. \"I've been given permission by the NIH to conduct autopsies on every polio victim within four hundred miles of Cincinnati. You had a seven-year-old boy die here this morning, so here I am.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDorothy glanced away, a shard of grief shivving the inside of her sternum. The child had been admitted for weakness in the arms and lower extremities. Within two hours, his paralysis had progressed so quickly that they didn't have time to get him into an iron lung to breathe. He died as Dorothy was desperately puncturing an opening into his windpipe. She'd tried to resuscitate him for twelve minutes after the attending physician had pronounced him dead. The attending had sent her from the room, telling her to \"get hold of herself,\" which was how she had ended up in the lab, numbly watching the antics of the deadly microscopic strivers.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Did you have to come all the way to Tennessee for a body?\" Barry said. \"Don't you have enough in Ohio?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDr. Sabin lifted his Olivier cleft. \"Evidently, I don't.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"It's a four-hour trip here,\" said Barry.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Three-and-a-half,\" Dr. Sabin corrected, \"when Robbie's at the wheel of his convertible. If he ever tires of medicine, he could be a race car driver in du Mans.\" He pronounced it the French way, Dorothy noticed. A man of the world.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRobbie ran his hand through the peninsula of sandy hair left by his receding hairline. \"Aw, I don't drive so fast. Though it is true that my wife refuses to go out with me if the top's down.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Just be glad you're not on the back of his motorcycle in February,\" said Dr. Sabin.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Say!\" Robbie exclaimed. \"It wasn't my idea to take the Harley to that case!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I assume full responsibility.\" To Dorothy, Dr. Sabin said, \"Do you know the secret of staying warm on a motorcycle ride in February?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe made herself smile. The chest-beating got tiresome.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Newspapers!\" Dr. Sabin replied to his own question. \"You stuff your coat with them. Friend Robbie taught me. They're excellent insulation.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I'd like to try that,\" Barry said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"No, you don't!\" Dr. Sabin exclaimed over his shoulder. \"We looked like Tweedledee and Tweedledum.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I meant ride a motorcycle.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Easy as riding a bicycle,\" said Dr. Ward. \"You just-\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDorothy spoke up. \"Why are you doing so many autopsies?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe men looked at her, their boys' club talk interrupted.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"You're zipping around the country doing postmortems on patients who weren't yours-why?\" She smiled. Always smile. Always disarm. \"I can think of pleasanter reasons for a road trip.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDr. Ward glanced around as if a spy might be hiding behind the drinking fountain. \"We're working on something big. When we're done-\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA look from Dr. Sabin snuffed his colleague's speech.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"May I sit in?\" said Dorothy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"On the autopsy?\" Dr. Ward exclaimed. \"You want to sit in on an autopsy?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"It wouldn't be my first.\" It wasn't that she enjoyed postmortems, although she preferred them to injecting mice with pathogens, for instance. An autopsy subject could no longer suffer; a mouse could. But since she hadn't been able to save the boy, she felt she owed it to him to find out what went wrong. Anything to help to get closer to the day when she didn't have to tell a mother that she'd lost her baby to polio.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDr. Sabin shrugged. \"I don't see why you shouldn't attend. You'll have company.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e2\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDorothy peered through the window of the gallery. It was going to be a most peculiar autopsy. Not only was it to be performed in a surgical operating theater instead of in the morgue, but Dr. Sabin had brought his own instruments-medical bags full of them. Now masked, gowned, and gloved as if his subject were still alive, he reviewed his paraphernalia. Dozens each of scalpels, saws, scissors, and forceps were arrayed before him like the keys of a pipe organ that he was about to play. At his side, Robbie, the maestro's assistant, prepared stacks of slides and rows of vials. The body had not yet been brought in.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDown the row from Dorothy, the chief of medicine, Dr. Morgan (still recovering from allowing a woman on his staff), narrowed eyes deep within bony sockets. \"This is ridiculous.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe nine other doctors in attendance agreed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe leaned forward to speak into the microphone, the light of an overhead bulb reflecting off his rocky slab of brow. \"Why the elaborate production, Dr. Sabin?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDr. Sabin glared up through the bright lights of the operating theater, visibly irritated at being held up by the arrival of the body. \"Since we are experiencing a delay, allow me to provide some background. As you know, our esteemed colleague Simon Flexner tells us that the poliovirus enters the body through the olfactory neuronal pathway and spreads directly from there to the central nervous system.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Yes, we know,\" said Dr. Morgan. \"You can lower your mask so that we can hear you-you can't infect the body once it comes.\"","brand":"Berkley","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46299979514085,"sku":"NP9780593438060","price":19.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780593438060.jpg?v=1767742285","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/the-woman-with-the-cure-isbn-9780593438060","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}