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Urgent Care (REVISED)

Everything around me felt like it was fading in and out, with each wave of my fever making reality seem hazy. My skin felt like it was on fire, and every muscle ached as if I had just finished a long race. The relentless pain in my left thigh served as a constant reminder of the strange sickness that had gripped me. Even sleep, which is usually a break from everything, couldn’t free me from the tiredness that felt like it was wrapped around me tightly.

I shifted awkwardly on the plastic chair, the strong smell of disinfectant cutting through the haze of my fever. The bright, sterile waiting room of Urgent Care only made my anxiety worse. A cheesy daytime talk show blared from a TV mounted high in the corner, the pointless chatter getting on my nerves. In the corner, a child with a bandaged arm whimpered softly while his mother whispered comforting words.

Dad was sitting next to me, giving off an air of tense control. His square face, with sharp cheekbones and intense blue eyes, showed signs of worry. His dirty-blonde hair was neatly styled, but it seemed to bristle with every anxious breath he took. He reached over and squeezed my shoulder, the warmth of his hand providing a little comfort in the chilly room. "Just hang in there, Sloane," he said softly, his voice rough with concern.

Pops was on my other side, his hand resting gently on my knee. His oval face, framed by a crew cut of ash-blonde hair, wore a kind expression, and his bright green eyes were filled with worry. He caught my gaze and gave me a reassuring smile, silently promising that everything would be okay.

I’ve seen pictures of Dad and Pops from high school - they haven’t changed a bit. Same hairstyles, same loving looks. It’s amazing they’ve been together since then.

Stetson, unable to sit still, paced back and forth in front of us. He pulled his phone from his pocket, checked it quickly, then shoved it back in, his leg bouncing with nervous energy. His square face, similar to Dad's, was lined with concern, and his bright blue eyes were constantly scanning the room. His dirty-blonde hair, styled in a trendy fade with a mop of curls on top, seemed to reflect his restless energy.

"Hey, relax," I whispered, my voice sounding rough. "You're making my head spin."

He paused his pacing and gave me a concerned smile. "Sorry, I can't help it. This place is really freaking me out. All these sick people... what if I catch something?" He shivered for effect.

I attempted to smile back, but it hurt too much and sent a sharp pain through my head. "That's silly," I managed to say. "It's probably just a flu or something." Yet, even as I spoke, a wave of anxiety gripped my stomach. This felt way worse than any flu I had experienced.

"Sloane?" a voice broke the heavy silence.

We all turned to see a young woman with warm brown eyes and a kind smile. Her dark hair was neatly tied up, showcasing her defined cheekbones and full lips. A tiny silver stud sparkled in her nose.

"I'm Sera," she introduced herself, her tone calming. "I'll be your nurse today. Unfortunately, only two people can come with Sloane."

Without a second thought, Stetson said, "I'll stay here," giving me a comforting smile. But I could see the concern in his eyes, reflecting the fear that was starting to take hold of me.

Sera guided us through a brightly lit corridor, where the walls were decorated with anatomical charts and health tips. The strong smell of antiseptic filled the air, making my stomach feel uneasy. She brought us into a small examination room, closing the door with a soft click. The room was bare, containing only a padded exam table wrapped in crinkly paper, a rolling stool, and a metal counter filled with various medical tools. In the corner, a plastic bin overflowing with colorful toys stood out, a strange reminder of the healthier kids who had been here before me.

Sera moved around quickly, checking my temperature, feeling my pulse, and wrapping a blood pressure cuff around my arm. She was efficient and gentle. "The doctor will be here shortly," she said with a comforting smile. "In the meantime, just try to relax."

Relax? That was easy for her to say. I sat on the edge of the exam table, my legs swinging anxiously, and my nerves were building with every second. Dad was sitting on a rolling stool next to me, his face showing his worry. Pops leaned against the counter with his arms crossed, looking hard to read.

After what seemed like forever, the door opened, and a tall, slender man walked in, followed by Sera. He had thick, dark brown hair with silver streaks, styled in a way that looked a bit messy, like he was always busy. His amber-brown eyes had little crinkles at the corners, hinting at a sense of humor. With a straight nose and high cheekbones, he had a distinguished look, and his thin lips were pressed together in thought.

"Sloane?" he asked, his voice deep and calming. "I'm Dr. Danielson."

Pops stepped forward, his voice filled with concern. "She's been experiencing pain in her left thigh, Doctor, along with a high fever, fatigue, and a loss of appetite."

Dr. Danielson paid close attention, his expression serious. He gestured for me to lie down on the examination table and then carefully pressed on my left thigh. I flinched as a sharp pain shot through my leg. Next, he examined my groin, feeling the swollen lymph nodes there. I tried to stay calm, but my muscles tightened up on their own. He then placed his stethoscope on my chest, listening closely to my heartbeat before moving it to my stomach.

After what felt like forever, he stood up straight. "Alright, Sloane," he said, his tone somber. "Your temperature is pretty high, your heart rate is a little fast, and there’s noticeable swelling in your lymph nodes." He paused, locking eyes with me. "We’ll need to do some tests to find out what’s going on."

He then turned to Sera and started giving her instructions. "We’ll need a CBC to check her blood count and an X-ray to look at the bone."

Dr. Danielson gave my shoulder a comforting squeeze. "I'll return as soon as I have the results," he said, his tone calm and steady. He walked out of the room, his long white coat trailing behind him.

Sera focused on a metal stand next to the examination table. With smooth efficiency, she set up an IV bag and tubing, the saline solution shining under the bright fluorescent lights. "I'm going to start you on some fluids," she said, her voice gentle. "This will help lower your fever and keep you hydrated."

I watched, feeling both curious and nervous, as she skillfully inserted the IV needle into my arm. There was a quick sting, followed by a cool feeling as the fluids began to flow into my vein. Sera secured the tubing with tape, her touch light and careful.

A lab technician hurried in, her arms full of vials and syringes. "Sorry to interrupt," she said with a quick smile. "I just need to take a few samples." She efficiently drew my blood, her movements quick and precise, before darting out of the room.

"Now, it's time for the X-ray," Sera said. "We need to get a better look at your thigh." She detached my IV bag from the stand and hung it on a portable hook. "I'll take you down to radiology," she explained, helping me sit up and get into the wheelchair.

With the IV bag hanging from the hook, Sera pushed me out of the exam room and down the hallway. As we navigated through the busy corridors, I couldn't shake the feeling of anxiety. What would the X-ray show?

Sera skillfully maneuvered the wheelchair through the winding hallways, her steady pace providing comfort even in the unfamiliar environment. We reached a large door labeled "Radiology" in bold black letters. Sera pushed it open, and we stepped into a dim room dominated by a large X-ray machine that hummed softly, giving off an almost eerie vibe.

"Here we are," Sera said, guiding me closer to the machine. A young woman in green scrubs welcomed us. Her dark hair was tied back in a high ponytail, with a few loose strands framing her freckled face. Her bright emerald eyes sparkled with kindness and intelligence. With high cheekbones and a delicate nose, she had an elegant appearance, and her full lips formed a warm smile.

"Hi Sloane," she greeted, her tone friendly. "I'm Maegan, the radiology technician. We're just going to do a quick X-ray of your thigh, okay?"

I nodded, trying to calm the nervous flutter in my stomach. Maegan's friendly demeanor helped ease my worries.

"Awesome! Just hop up onto the table here," she said, pointing to a padded platform against the wall.

Sera assisted me in moving from the wheelchair to the table, carefully positioning my leg as Maegan directed. "Now, just stay very still while we take the images," Maegan instructed, adjusting the X-ray arm above my thigh. "It won't take long."

With a gentle whir, the machine activated, its robotic arm gliding smoothly over me. A strange tingling sensation coursed through my leg as the X-ray captured the images. Maegan worked swiftly and efficiently, her movements precise and practiced.

"All done!" she said with a bright smile. "You were an excellent patient, Sloane."

Sera assisted me in getting back into the wheelchair, and we headed back to the exam room, leaving Maegan to work on the X-ray images. As we walked the same path, I found myself curious about what those images might show. Would they uncover the reason behind my strange illness? The worry that had faded during the X-ray came rushing back, making my stomach feel all twisted up.

In the cold, clinical atmosphere of the exam room, time felt like it was dragging on forever. Dad was pacing back and forth, looking worried, while Pops sat next to me, holding my hand so tightly that his knuckles turned pale. My heart raced wildly, pounding against my chest in the stillness. A wave of nausea washed over me, and the room seemed to sway slightly.

At last, the door opened, and Dr. Danielson walked in with a serious look on his face. He was holding a folder that clearly contained bad news.

"Sloane," he said, his tone heavy, "the results from your CBC indicate that your lactate dehydrogenase levels are high. Additionally, the X-ray showed a concerning mass in your left thigh, measuring about two inches across."

I felt the color drain from my face, leaving me dizzy. My stomach twisted, feeling like it was about to turn inside out. A mass? Two inches? What could that possibly mean? Panic surged in my throat, making it hard to think of the questions racing through my mind.

Dad stopped his pacing, his face pale. "What does that mean, Doctor?" His voice was tight and strained.

Pops squeezed my hand even harder, his usually cheerful expression replaced with deep concern. "Is it...cancer?" he asked, the word hanging heavily in the air.

Dr. Danielson looked at each of us, his eyes showing both worry and resolve. "It's too soon to make any definite conclusions," he said. "However, considering the size and position of the mass along with your other symptoms, we need to dig deeper."

He took a moment to collect himself. "I've already contacted Children's Hospital Colorado in Aurora. They have a specialized team ready to conduct further tests, including a PET scan and a biopsy."

Children's Hospital? Aurora? The words hit me hard, like a punch to the gut. This wasn’t just a simple illness or an injury. This was serious, and it terrified me. I felt tears welling up, but I fought them back, determined not to cry in front of anyone.

"We'll set everything up as quickly as possible," Dr. Danielson said, his tone steady. "Try to stay calm, Sloane. We’ll take it one step at a time." He gave my shoulder a comforting squeeze before he turned to leave.

"But...what if it is cancer?" I asked, my voice shaking.

Dr. Danielson stopped and looked back at me, offering a small, sympathetic smile. "We'll deal with that if it comes to it, Sloane. For now, our priority is to ensure you receive the best care."

Just then, Sera rushed back into the room, holding a stack of papers. "Here are your discharge papers, Sloane," she said, her bright attitude a sharp contrast to the heavy mood in the room. "Dr. Danielson also prescribed some anti-inflammatory meds to help with the pain and swelling in your leg."

I took the papers from Sera in a daze, my thoughts spinning. Children's Hospital. Biopsy. Cancer. Those words echoed in my mind, creating a whirlwind of fear and confusion.

Dad cleared his throat, his voice rough around the edges. "Alright, Sloane. Let’s get you home."

Pops held my hand tightly, his grip a source of comfort amidst my anxiety. "We're here for you, sweetheart. Every step of the way."

I managed a faint smile, drawing courage from their constant support. With their help, I carefully got off the examination table, my legs feeling unsteady. Sera gently removed the IV and placed a small bandage over the spot where the needle had been.

As we walked out of the exam room, the sharp smell of antiseptic clung to us like a heavy blanket. I glanced back at the closed door, feeling like I was leaving behind a part of myself that was carefree and healthy. The future loomed ahead, uncertain and intimidating. But looking at Dad and Pops, their faces showing concern yet filled with love, I realized I wasn’t alone. We would tackle this challenge together, one step at a time.

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