Chapter 8 - The Doctor Wrote Down Sleepy
I didn't want to go back out to the car that afternoon. My legs felt heavy after the second cup, the way they did when I'd been swimming too long, and Ellie the elephant kept slipping out of my hands. Grandpa Ray carried me most of the way down the white stairs, one arm around me and the purple bag still hooked over his wrist like he wasn't leaving it behind.
"You've got that birthday check due anyway, Jen," he said in the hallway. His voice was easy, like he was just remembering something. "For school forms. I can drive. Save you gas."
Mom stood by the front door with her phone in her hand. She looked tired in her gray blazer. "She just had a physical in spring, Dad."
"I know. This would cover the fall paperwork. They'll see her fast if I call it a birthday check," he said. "And she seems wiped out. Wouldn't hurt to ask."
I leaned my head against his tan jacket. It smelled like his car. Mom looked at me for a long second, then at the juice cup on the counter that she'd rinsed out. She sighed and grabbed her purse.
In the back seat I held Ellie against my chest and watched the houses go by. Grandpa kept the radio low and kept glancing at me in the mirror. Every time our eyes met he smiled, but it didn't stay.
At the clinic the air was cold and smelled like wipes. The lady at the desk gave me a sticker that said BRAVE. Mom filled out the clipboard while Grandpa sat beside me, his big hand warm on my back to keep me upright. I kept blinking because the lights were too bright. When the nurse called my name I stood up too fast and wobbled into Grandpa's leg.
The exam room had a paper-covered table and a poster of a bear brushing its teeth. Dr. Patel came in with short dark hair and a blue badge. She'd seen me before. She remembered my sneakers lit up.
"Happy late birthday, Maya," she said, then looked closer. "You sleepy today?"
I nodded and hugged Ellie tighter. She asked me to follow her finger with my eyes. I tried, but my eyelids kept dropping. She asked what day it was, what I had for lunch. I knew the answers but they came out slow, like I had to pull each word up from deep water. She wrote something down without saying what.
"She's been like this on and off," Grandpa said quietly from his chair. "Naps hard in the day. Hard to rouse. Drinks a lot of juice before."
Mom shifted in her seat. "Just apple juice with vitamins and honey. For immunity. My friend does it for her kids."
Dr. Patel nodded and didn't argue, but she kept watching me. She checked my eyes and my reflexes and had me squeeze her fingers. My squeezes were weak. She listened to my heart for a long time.
"We'll do labs to be thorough," she said. "And I'd like to hold a urine sample for toxicology, standard when we see unusual daytime sleepiness. Just to rule things out."
Mom's hand tightened on her phone. "Is that necessary? She's just growing. She doesn't sleep good at night."
"It's routine," Dr. Patel said kindly but firmly. "Better to have it and not need it. And until we see her back, no juice with add-ins. No honey mixes, no vitamins in drinks, no cold medicine to help sleep. Just plain water and regular meals."
I remember Grandpa nodding like he'd already decided that. Mom looked down at her lap and said, "Okay."
The nurse brought me a cup for the sample and Mom helped me to the bathroom. My feet dragged in my white sneakers. When we got back, Dr. Patel put a yellow sheet on a clipboard. A sleep log. Bedtime, wake time, naps, anything she drank.
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"Write everything for two days," she said to Mom. "Bring it back in forty-eight hours. If she gets harder to wake, or her breathing slows, go to urgent care."
Grandpa took the clipboard like he was taking the job. He folded it careful and put it in the purple gift bag with Ellie peeking out the top. On the drive home I fell asleep against the window with the sticker stuck to Ellie's ear, and I woke up when the car stopped, Grandpa's hand light on my shoulder and Mom quiet in the front seat.
