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"Dad?" I heard a familiar voice on the phone. It was 11:00 A.M. on September 7th, Joshua's first day in High School.
"Josh, that you? Shouldn't you be at school?" I wondered out loud.
"Yeah, I am, but..." That's when I remembered that Joshua hadn't been feeling all that well. Had something happened? Was he suddenly feeling worse?
"Are you feeling worse, honey?" I asked, pretending that I'd remembered the problem all along.
"Yeah, it hurts so much." He moaned. I could tell by his voice that he was about to cry.
"Don't cry, Josh. You want me to pick you up?"
"Yeah..."
"Is it still your side?"
"Yeah..."
It seemed to be all he could say.
"And I'm getting a headache, too." he added.
"Okay, well, you get your stuff and I'll be there as fast as I can, okay?" I told Joshua, partly trying to reassure him, partly trying to calm myself down. I wasn't going to be able to pick him up if I was so worked up about stuff.
I took a glass of cool water, hoping that would help me calm down.
"Michael?" I asked after a gulp. Supposedly he was taking his mid-morning nap, but knowing him he might be using his markers for one of his new creations.
"Daddy?" he said, stepping out of his colorful room.
"Hey, Mikey, we're going to go to Joshua's school, okay?"
"The big school?" his eyes widened.
"Yup!" I said, picking him up easily and setting him on my shoulders. Michael giggled with delight. "We'll both have a little water and then we leave, okay?"
I filled a plastic cup of water for him. "I want the blue one!" he whinned.
I got the blue cup and poured the water from the orange cup into it. "Here you go, Artist."
Mikey giggled again and, in the process, spilled most of the water on my shirt.
I finished off my own water and set Mikey down. "Go put your shoes on, think you can do that?"
"Of course I can!" Mikey pouted.
"Okay, just making sure, honey. Go on." I smiled at him and watched as he went to get his shoes, then went to my own room to get myself a dry shirt.
"Let's go." I said a moment later.

* * *

"Hey, Daddy, you took forever." Josh moaned. He looked pale as a ghost, and was holding his arms around his stomach.
"Sorry, Josh, Mikey was having a bit of trouble with his shoes." I explained.
"I was not!"
"Are you feeling badly enough to go to the doctor, son?" I asked with concern. Josh was not looking well at all, and I saw now that this was no simple case of nerves.
Josh nodded shortly.
I started the car and directed my way to the Louis Pasteur Pediatric Hospital, where I had only been once before, with Ryan when he'd had a case of bronchitis and had needed to stay for a couple days.

Anyone who's had this happen to them can tell you. As they say, the Day that it all began always seems to be frozen in time, minute to minute, detail to detail, second to agonizing second.