Chapter 35 New Questions
The message from Dr. Harris arrived without warning. Damian picked up his phone, read the screen, and put it down without speaking. His jaw was tight, his hands motionless on the table.
I waited. "What does she want?"
"New research. She wants us to come in."
His voice was flat, but I saw the tension in his shoulders. Another appointment. Another unknown. The kitchen felt smaller than before.
"When?"
"Tomorrow morning."
We sat in the waiting room at 8:45 the next day. Damian flipped through a magazine without seeing it. I watched the fish tank in the corner. A clownfish circled a plastic castle. A yellow tang hid behind a rock.
The receptionist called Dr. Harris's name. We walked down the hallway. The office smelled like green tea and paper. Dr. Harris had a new chart on her desk, thicker than before.
"I'll get straight to the point," she said. "A study published last month shows that people with Factor V Leiden are at higher risk for blood clots during viral illnesses. Things like the flu, COVID, even severe colds."
I reached for Damian's hand. His palm was cold.
"The good news is that we can manage this risk," Dr. Harris continued. "Vaccinations, early testing, and in some cases, short-term blood thinners during illness. We'll create a plan for each child."
Damian's voice was rough. "So every time one of the children gets a cold, we panic."
"No. Every time one of them gets a cold, you call us. We'll guide you. You don't have to do this alone."
She handed us a folder. It was heavy with printouts and phone numbers.
We left with the folder tucked under Damian's arm. He held it like a bomb.
"She said we don't have to panic," I said as we walked to the car.
"She also said every virus is a risk."
I unlocked the doors. "Then we prepare. We make a plan. We write down what to do."
He stared at the folder. "I thought we already had a plan."
"Now we have a better one. More information is never a bad thing."
He tossed the folder onto the back seat. "It feels bad."
I started the engine. "I know."
That night, we sat the children down again. Lily was braiding Rose's hair on the couch. Max was drawing dinosaurs on the floor. Leo was building a tower of blocks on the rug.
Damian knelt in the middle of the living room. "Remember the blood thing we talked about? We learned something new today."
Lily stopped braiding. "Is it bad?"
"No. It just means we need to be extra careful when anyone gets sick. We'll call the doctor faster. We might need to take special medicine."
Max looked up from his drawing. "Like when I had the fever?"
"Exactly like that. You did so well."
Leo's tower wobbled but stayed standing. "Do I need the special medicine too?"
"Not you or Rose. Just Lily and Max."
Rose turned around on the couch. "So I have to watch them more."
Damian smiled, though his eyes stayed tired. "You're already very good at that."
The first real test came ten days later.
Max woke up hot and listless. His cheeks were flushed. His eyes were glassy. He didn't want breakfast, not even pancakes.
Damian took his temperature. 102.1.
"I'm calling Dr. Thompson," I said.
"She'll just tell us to come in."
"Then we go in. That's the plan."
The pediatrician's office was quiet at this hour. Max sat on the exam table, wrapped in a blanket from home. Dr. Thompson listened to his chest, checked his throat, looked in his ears. She ordered a blood draw.
"Likely a virus," she said. "But we'll start a low dose of blood thinners as a precaution. I want to be safe."
Damian held Max's hand during the blood draw. Max cried. Damian did not, but his knuckles were white.
When it was over, Max asked, "Can I have a popsicle?"
"Two popsicles," Damian said. "One for each arm."
Max almost smiled.
The results came back four hours later. No clots. No complications. A common cold.
We drove home in silence. Max fell asleep in his car seat, his head lolling to the side.
Damian pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine. "I thought my heart was going to stop every second of that."
"Mine too."
"What if it happens again? What if next time it's worse?"
I reached over and touched his arm. "Then we handle it. Just like today. Step by step."
He leaned his head back against the seat. "I hate this. I hate watching them go through it."
"I know. But they're strong. They get it from you."
That evening, after Max was tucked in with his stuffed dinosaur, Rose found me in the kitchen. She was holding her notebook.
"Mommy, is Max going to be okay?"
I knelt to her level. "He's going to be fine. He just needs a little extra help sometimes. Like wearing his bracelet and taking medicine when he's sick."
She thought about this, her gray eyes serious. "Does that mean we all have to be careful?"
"We all have to watch out for each other. That's what families do. You're already the best at that."
She nodded and went to find her book.
The next morning, Max woke up hungry. He ate three pancakes and asked for a fourth. He chased Waffle around the yard. He asked to go to the zoo.
Damian looked at me. "Zoo?"
"Zoo. He deserves it."
We loaded the children into the car. Leo brought a map. Lily brought snacks. Rose brought her notebook. Max brought Waffle's leash, though the dog stayed home.
The zoo was crowded with families. Leo wanted to see the lions first. Lily wanted the giraffes. Max wanted the reptile house. Rose wanted to read every single sign.
We walked for hours. Damian carried Max on his shoulders. I held Lily's hand. Leo ran ahead. Rose walked beside me, reading facts about elephants.
"Did you know elephants can hear with their feet?" she asked.
"No. That's amazing."
She nodded. "They also never forget."
I looked at Damian. "Neither do we. We remember everything now."
On the drive home, Damian's phone buzzed.
He glanced at the screen. His expression shifted. The light from the phone lit up his face.
"What is it?" I asked.
He handed me the phone. A text from Dr. Harris.
I've been reviewing Lily's most recent blood work from last week. There's a slight irregularity I'd like to discuss. Nothing urgent, but please schedule an appointment when you can.
The afternoon sun slanted through the windows. The children chattered in the back seat. Lily was singing a song about a cat. Max was counting trucks outside.
Damian took the phone back. "Nothing urgent."
"That's what she said."
"But it's something. It's always something."
I watched the road. "Then we'll find out what. We'll go see her and we'll listen."
He put his hand on my knee. "One day at a time."
"One day at a time."