That's not the answer that Peggy wants to hear because 'working on one' is not 'have one', which means that this blasted suffering isn't going to come to an end anytime soon and she wants to lash out purely for that reason alone. Making a face, she wishes that she didn't feel so hopeless about the chances of recovery.

Maybe that's just the fever settling in.

"Will you do me a favour?" Peggy asks, sweating and feeling her head throb with the ache, along with the fever. "Make sure that you're there, that you agree with whatever they find. I trust you." More than she trusts just about anyone, here.