#cough. wh ere's your. warrant

[astro-inthestars]

Oh...? You have a thing for Monika Astro?

...........................why do you ask

[appalachianwiine]

Swim - Chapter 2 - Be Scared With Me

Be scared with me, honey Be scared, I am too Let's share in the running We'll fare best as two Be scared 'til it's funny Be scared through and through Be scared 'til it's sunny We'll stare down into the unknown And anything this world can do to you and me

-"Be Scared With Me" by Canyon City

The next half hour is a blur, he’s throwing things in a suitcase for Lydia and then throwing them in the car, pulling out of the driveway as Rick pulls in. Rick waves at them but Daryl doesn’t even register the movement until he’s already out of the driveway and turning off their street.

“Daddy where are we going?!” Lydia’s high pitched panicked voice breaks through the colored fog in his head and he has to pull to the side of the side of the road. He turns back in his seat and looks back at her. Tears are running down her cheeks, making his heart twist when he sees them.

“Lydia I-” He takes a deep breath. “Sorry kid I - um we’re - I talked to Dr. Lori on the phone.”

“M-More needles?” Lydia whimpers.

“I don’t know.” He says. “But we have to go to the hospital okay? They’re going to - to make sure you’re okay.”

“Wh-why do we have to go now?” Lydia whines.

“Because - Because something might be wrong with your blood.” He grapples for a child friendly way to explain what's running through his head.

“Wrong with my blood?” Lydia sounds confused now. “What's wrong with my blood?”

“We - we don’t know.” Daryl says, a half truth but he’ll think of a better explanation later. “But we have to go to the hospital to find out okay?”

“So… we’re not going to Carl’s?” Lydia pouts, her lower lip sticking out. “We’re going to the hospital to see Dr. Lori?”

“We’re going to the hospital, but we’re not going to see Dr. Lori.” He says quietly. “We’re going to see a different doctor. A special doctor.”

“A special doctor?” Lydia’s voice is shaky. Wariness of doctors was nothing new, she’d been picked over by a dozen of them taking photos and records for evidence against her mother.  “Like - like the one who took the pictures?”

“No.” Daryl says heavily. “Not like that. This is a doctor for your blood.”

“A doctor for my blood.” She mutters.

“Yeah. We’re gonna go check your blood.” He nods.

“And then we can go home?”

“And then we can go home.” He hopes to hell it isn’t a lie. Lydia turns her face away from him to look out the window, the evening sun catching the tears on her cheeks and making them shimmer. She doesn’t say anything so Daryl turns back around, puts the car in drive and starts off towards the hospital.

Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta is only 20 minutes from where they live, he’d driven by thousands of times - even been in a few times when a case warranted it - but he’d never really seen it. It’s a big building with a large swooping glass overhang leading up to the emergency room entrance and brightly colored stick figured logo printed on one of the outer walls. Daryl finds himself staring at one of the parking spaces labeled “emergency room parking”. Did he go there? Or all the way to long term parking? Did it matter? He could move the car later he decides, pulling into the spot and unbuckling his seat belt.

“Ready kiddo?” Daryl says, turning to Lydia.

Lydia shakes her head, her wide brown eyes watching him in terror. “I don’t want to Daddy.”

“I know, kid.” He says, stepping out of the car and opening her door. “Want me to carry you?” Lydia nods and unbuckles her seatbelt, holding her arms out for him to lift her from the seat. He picks up the duffle bag, sliding it over one arm and then picks up Lydia, closing the car door he hears the automatic click as he turns and starts for the hospital.

The ER is fairly unbusy, a couple of coughing kids and their worried parents, and a single receptionist sitting behind the desk.

“Hello Sir how can I help you?” He can’t help but feel that the woman's voice is far too chipper and enthusiastic for the ER of a children’s hospital.

“I - I um - I was told to bring my daughter here.” Daryl’s mouth is suddenly very dry and his throat tight.

“Okay, what’s your daughter’s name?” The woman's bright smile just won’t fade will it?

“Uh, Lydia. Lydia Dixon, we were told they were waiting for us here.” He mutters, was he in the right place? There were three of these hospitals spread throughout the city after all. Had he come to the wrong one?

She clicks on the computer a few times and recognition sparks in her eyes, and then ever so slightly, her smile falters. “Oh, yes Dr. Rhee informed us you’d be coming. If you’d just go over to bed 4, the nurse will come take vitals and I'll tell Dr. Rhee you’re here. Fill out this paperwork while you wait okay?” She holds out a clipboard.

“Lyd, you take that?” Daryl’s out of hands to take the clipboard with. Lydia lifts her head off his shoulder and removes one arm from around his neck to take the clipboard with.

“Is Dr. Rhee nice?” Lydia asks as she takes the clipboard from the receptionist.

“Dr. Rhee is very nice.” The receptionist assures. “You’ll love her.”

“Good.” Lydia mutters, putting her head back down on Daryl’s shoulder as they walk over to bed 4. He sets her down on the bed, drops the duffle bag in one of the chairs and pulls the curtains closed around the bed for privacy. Lydia sits limply in the middle of the bed and he looks at her, properly, for the first time since he got that phone call.

How could he not see it before? She was pale, circles rimming her eyes, and she kept yawning in spite of her long nap this afternoon. Had she looked like this for a long time? Or was he only thinking she did because of what Lori had said?

Daryl picks up the clipboard from where Lydia had dropped it on the bed and sits down to look at the questions. Some of it was easy, name, date of birth, blood type, vaccine history. But some of it was harder;

Does your child have a family history of medical or psychiatric issues? If yes, what relation and what diagnosis?

He didn’t know. Evil her mother may have been, but as far as a medical history went? He had no idea.  He didn’t know anything about her before age four, when he’d been called to the ER to get the evidence. He licks his lips and scrawls ‘ unknown’ in the space following the question and moving on to the rest of the form. He doesn’t really have anyone to put as an emergency contact but he scrawls Rick and Michonne’s numbers in the provided spacing, he’ll clear it with them later. He skips the questions about menstruation - she was too young for that - and stops at the question;

Why have you brought your child to the ER today?

His mouth is very dry again, and he looks over to the bed where Lydia is sat. She was halfway in between pajamas and dinner clothes - jeans underneath her nightgown - and her hair was still a mess. She’s staring quietly at the blue curtain, her eyes glazed over, not making a peep or complaining about being bored, a large bruise peeking out underneath the strap of the nightgown.

The question taunts him on the page, and with shaky handwriting he writes ‘ Leukemia’ The word is bolder and darker then the rest of the words on the page.

“Knock knock!” A voice calls from outside the curtain, making Lydia jump.

“Come - come in.” Daryl says, reaching for Lydia’s hand and giving it a squeeze. A nurse in bright pink scrubs with white hearts on them slips past the curtain.

“Hi Miss Lydia.” The nurse smiles. “I’m Nurse Andrea.”

“Hi.” Lydia mutters.

“Can you hold out your arm for me?” The nurse asks, reaching for the equally brightly colored blood pressure cuff. Lydia eyes it warily, but extends her arm. The nurse, Andrea, puts it around her arm. “And stick out your tongue?” She goes for a thermometer, which Lydia lets be slid into her mouth. “And point your finger?” And on the pulse oximeter slides. “Thank you Lydia.” To Daryl she turns and says “I can take those forms for you.”

“Thanks.” He mutters, handing her the clipboard. The monitors beep and off comes the pulse oximeter and blood pressure cuff, and out comes the thermometer.

“Okay Miss Lydia you’re running just a little bit of a temperature but we’re going to let Dr. Rhee take a look at you before giving anything. Dad do you have any questions?” She turns to Daryl, looking at him expectantly.

“Yeah uh, when uh - when will Dr. Rhee be down? And - what uh - what do we do from -from here?” He rubs his chin with one hand.

“Well,” The nurse says carefully. “From here Dr. Rhee will run more tests to confirm the diagnosis, and then you’ll be admitted to the Oncology floor. Is Mom coming? Should we wait a bit?”

Daryl shakes his head. “Nah, ‘s just me. I jus’ - i jus’ wan’ her t’ be okay.”

“You’re in very good hands. I’ll go run these forms and Dr. Rhee will be right in.” Nurse Andrea says with a smile, turning from them and slipping back out of the curtained area.

They wait almost an hour for Dr. Rhee, and Daryl finds himself growing more and more antsy. Lydia doesn’t seem to mind, she sits quietly and watches videos on the Ipad. Daryl meanwhile half heartedly answers texts from Lori, Shane, Rick, and Michonne. He even hears from his boss, telling him not to worry and focus on Lydia - which is good, because he hasn’t thought about work a single moment since that phone call from Lori.

“Hello?” a voice calls from beyond the curtain. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah um - sorry yeah.” Daryl says quickly, standing up.

Daryl isn’t sure what he’d been expecting when he thought of Dr. Rhee but it definitely wasn’t the person standing in front of him. Dr. Rhee had shoulder length brown hair, green eyes, and looked to be about six months pregnant. She was smiling at him and Lydia and holding her hand out. She wasn’t the cool clinical figure he imagined a pediatric oncologist to be, she was warm and welcoming. He shakes her hand.

“I’m Daryl, this is Lydia.” He says, watching Dr. Rhee shake Lydia’s hand.

“Well it’s nice t’ meet ya both.” Dr. Rhee isn’t from Atlanta, he can tell that much from her accent, she’s from somewhere rural, somewhere like he was from. “I’m Maggie Rhee, Lori told you you’d be coming. Now Miss Lydia,” She pulls up a stool, taking a squirt of the hand sanitizer from the wall as she does. “What brings you here today?”

“I’m sick with bad blood.” Lydia says, watching Dr. Rhee warily as she feels the lymph nodes on Lydia’s neck.

“Well you’re lucky then.” Dr. Rhee smiles. “I happen to be the best at treating bad blood. Now can I borrow your daddy for a moment?”

“Uh-huh.” Lydia nods. “But I want bunny first.”

“Alright kiddo.” Daryl opens the duffle bag and pulls the worn, stuffed rabbit from inside. “There ya go, there’s bunny.” She takes it and lays back down on the bed, letting Daryl step outside the curtain without so much as a murmur.

Dr. Rhee leads him a few feet away to a row of empty chairs. “I took a look at Lydia’s bloodwork and I believe Dr. Grimes was right, she has Leukemia.”

“Okay.” He nods. “What- what does that mean?”

“Well, tonight we’re going to go ahead and admit her to Oncology, and in the morning we’re going to do a Bone Marrow Biopsy, this will tell us what kind of Leukemia lydia has and allow us to make a good treatment plan she’ll als-”

“Type of Leukemia?” Daryl interrupts. “There’s types of Leukemia?”

“Yes.” Dr. Rhee says. “There’s several types. Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia, Acute Myeloid Leukemia, Chronic Lymphoblastic Leukemia, Chronic Myeloid Leukemia, and Juvenile Myelomonocytic Leukemia. We know Lydia has one of the Acute types, most likely Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia, it accounts for 75% of all childhood leukemiads. There’s also subtypes of that, but those are more complicated, I can tell you about them but I do think it would be better to wait until after the bone marrow biopsy so we have a better idea what we’re dealing with.”

“There’s - what?” Daryl manages. “And  and what’s a bone marrow biopsy what - what are you going to do to my daughter?”

“There are subtypes. But I don’t want you to worry about that right now.” Dr. Rhee says, her voice calm but strong. “A Bone Marrow Biopsy is where we drill a hole into her pelvic bone and take a sample of the bone marrow, that way we can test it for leukemia cells and find out which subtype we’re dealing with.”

“You’re going to drill a hole in her pelvis?” His head is spinning. “She - she’s eight.”

“She’s going to be anesthetized, because at the same time we’re going to do a lumbar puncture with chemo and put in a PICC line.” She explains.

“A - a what? You don’t even know what kind of Leukemia she has and you’re going to give her chemo during surgery?” He asks, trying to process what was said to him.

“A lumbar puncture with chemo, we’re going to sample her spinal fluid and inject chemotherapy drugs into her spinal fluid. We do this with all leukemia patients regardless of type. We’re also placing a PICC line. That’s a line that runs from the upper arm into the heart. We can change this to a Port-a-cath at a later date but for the time being a PICC line will be easiest.” She explains.

Daryl can’t even think straight anymore, all he sees are the words, Chemo, Bone Marrow, Leukemia, PICC, Cancer. Cancer. Cancer, running across his brain. Finally he swallows. “Okay - okay and - and you’ll - you do all of this?”

“No.” She says. “Well, I do some of it. I’ll do the biopsy and the lumbar puncture. But the general surgeon will place the PICC line. He’s my husband actually and he’s very good at what he does. I promise.”

“Okay.” He swallows. “Okay. This - this is a lot.”

“I know.” Dr. Rhee offers a supportive smile and reaches out to squeeze his hands. “Is your wife coming?”

“I uh - I don’t have a wife.” He says. “‘S jus’ me. Lydia’s mom - she’s - well I adopted her. ‘S just us.”

“Okay.” Dr. Rhee nods slowly. “The hospital has a support group for parents of children with cancer. It’s run by a woman who was a single mom during her daughter's cancer treatment. Is it alright if I give her a call?”

“Sure.” The robotic reply comes, but now along with the word Cancer and Leukemia is another thought. There are enough kids with this for a support group - and enough single parents that Dr. Rhee knew one off the top of her head.

“Alright.” Dr. Rhee says. “Her name is Carol Peletier, I’ll give her a call and then put you in touch with the group. Does that work?”

“Yeah.” He breathes.

“Then how about you go sit with Lydia, a nurse will be down soon to take you up to your room.” Dr. Rhee stands and offers a supportive smile. “Your daughter is in good hands Mr. Dixon. And you obviously care a lot. That’s good, Lydia’s gonna need that.”

The room they end up in, room 324, has a large window looking over the city, it’s dark now and the street lights have lit up the city like a million fireflies. Lydia scowls as the nurse hands her a hospital gown.

“Do i have to put this on?” Lydia frowns.

“Probably baby girl.” Daryl sighs, “come on, get yer stuff off an’ put it on. Then ya can get int’ bed.”

“I don’t want to sleep.” Lydia pouts. “I’m hungry daddy.”

Daryl checks his watch, it was almost 10pm and they hadn’t eaten yet. Christ where had the hours gone. “Let me ask the nurse if we can get somethin’ t’ eat okay?”

“Okay.” Lydia sighs, climbing up into the bed.

Daryl opens the door to find a nurse standing right in front of him. “Oh uh - sorry.” eh mutters. “I was um - we wanted to know if I can get her something to eat.”

“Well Dr. Rhee wants her started on antibiotics for the fever, but we can get you a wheelchair for her and you can take her to the cafeteria.” the nurse says.

“The - oh right.” he frowns, she had had a fever. “Why antibiotics?”

“Just incase it’s an infection, it’s a high risk with Leukemia patients. We’ll start them via IV.” The nurse explains.

“IV.” That would go over like a lead balloon. She hated needles.

“It’s the fastest way to get them.” The nurse explains. “But then you can take her for food or have it brought here.”

“Okay.” Daryl nods, turning back into the room. Lydia is watching him suspiciously from the bed. “Lyd, we gotta give you some medicine.”

“What kind of medicine?” Lydia frowns.

“Medicine for your fever.” Daryl says, sitting on the edge of the bed. “They gotta use a needle but it won’t hurt, you can sit on my lap the whole time.”

“Th-the whole time?” Lydia mutters, licking her lips nervously.

“The whole time.” He agrees.

Lydia climbs into his lap and watches the nurse - who introduces herself as Sasha - prepare the IV line. “Daddy I don’t want to.”

“I know baby girl.” Daryl sighs, pressing a kiss to the top of her hair.

“You know what helps sometimes?” Sasha says, wiping Lydia’s arm with an alcohol wipe. “Singing. Do you know any songs?”

“Row your boat.” Lydia mutters.

“Okay.” Sasha says. “Then how about you close your eyes and you sing me the whole thing, and by the time you’re done, the IV will be in and the needle will be gone okay?”

“Okay.” Lydia muttered, closing her eyes. “Row, row, row your boat…”

Daryl can’t watch, so he looks instead outside the window that leads to the corridor. He can see the nurses station for the floor from here. There’s a little bald boy in a hospital gown, clutching an IV pole and smirking devilishly as he peers around the station corner. As he does a black man with long dreadlocks comes around the corner, scooping him up and tickling him. Daryl can’t hear it from here but he can see the little boy erupt into giggles as he’s swept off his feet and tickled.

They look out of place the man and the boy, laughing and tickling on a cancer ward, but Daryl is mesmerized. He watched the man put the boy on his shoulder, grab the rolling IV pole and start down the hall, still laughing. How can they both be laughing so hard? The little boy especially seems consumed by laughter, clinging to the man’s dreadlocks as they walk past the window, he can hear the giggles as they pass, the little boys voice cutting through the air;

“You found me daddy! You found me!”