CH. 7: A Sick Danny Reagan Part 1
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The following week, and the Reagans learned a whole new meaning to the word exhausted. Mary's pregnancy was beginning to show in more ways than one. Not only was she growing in size, but she was also feeling sick more and more often. Being pregnant three times before, Mary however was a bit more used to the pain that came with being pregnant. What Mary couldn't handle however, was when she couldn't care for her children when they were sick, due to the concern that it could make her sick. Which she already was, simply due to the pregnancy. She had trouble eating almost anything that wasn't completely bland, and any smell could make her nauseous in mere seconds.
Mary normally picked up the children from school. Only now that she was having a harder pregnancy, the task had fallen to Frank. At least when he wasn't working a night tour. Sometimes all he had time for was to pick them up and drop them off at home before heading back to work, but he tried to help his wife out as much as possible. It was a Wednesday, and Frank was working a day tour, allowing him to pick his two elder children up from school. Normally the conversation between the parent and the kids was light hearted, unless one of them had gotten in trouble that day, which was usually Danny. This particular day however was different, Danny had been quiet since he got in the car, and Erin was doing her best to fill in the gaps of silence left by her brother. Danny was sitting in the front seat of his father's car, staring blankly out the window. He hadn't been feeling well since that morning, but he ignored it, thinking that it wouldn't last long. He had coughed occasionally here and there since he got in the car, and he was beginning to notice how much he was sweating. There was a brief moment of silence in the car, and Danny could no longer hold in his discomfort, the pain in his stomach increasing, and the nausea becoming quite overwhelming.
"Dad, can you pull over?" Danny turned to face him.
"Why? What's wrong?" Frank looked at the boy's pale face.
"I don't feel good," Danny rubbed his face.
"Let the air condition blow in your face," Frank positioned one of the vents to blow directly into his son's face.
"Where do you feel bad at?" He wondered, trying to determine if it was just a headache the boy was suffering from, or something worse.
"My stomach hurts," Danny placed a hand on his belly.
"The only reason he feels bad is because he got called in during recess and got his knuckles rasped by the principal," Erin interrupted, squealing on her brother.
"Is that true Danny?" Frank turned his attention to his son.
"Yes," Danny moaned when he felt the motion of the car pull over.
"Let me see your hands," Frank held his own hand out, so he could survey the redness, wanting to make sure he wasn't hurt. He didn't think the principal would do anything too excessive, and Danny had been in trouble before and was fine. "There isn't a mark on you," Frank observed, aside from just a slight hint of pink here and there.
"He didn't hit me that hard," Danny shook his head. His cough returning once again.
"What did you do?" Frank wondered.
"I have a note," Danny had just started to pull the note from his pants pocket, when he was hit with a wave of nausea, and threw up in the middle seat between he and his father.
"Eww! Danny!" Erin screamed.
"Erin keep it down," Frank reached for the bottle of water he had in the cup holder on the driver's side door, so he could at least give the boy something to wash his mouth out with. "When did you start feeling bad?"
"This morning before lunch," Danny held the now soiled note out to Frank.
Frank hesitated to take it. His car had such a foul odor that he had to roll the windows down, and the side of his right pant leg was wet. He was doing his best to keep from losing his own lunch as the smell hit his nostrils, causing him to look back to check on his daughter. Erin, he observed seemed to be doing fairly well, considering she was burying her face in the backseat. Something Frank was wishing he could do, but no matter how bad he wanted to, he knew he had to be the one to take care of his obviously sick child.
"Did you tell your teacher or the nurse?" Frank was trying to figure how fast things went from bad, finding out his son had gotten in trouble to worse, when he discovered he was sick.
"No," Danny shook his head. "I didn't want them to think I was trying to get out of trouble.
"You should have told them," Frank instructed him to take only small sips of the water, not really wanting him to add to the mess that was sinking into the seat cushions.
"I'm sorry," Danny leaned back against the seat, closing his eyes.
"We'll be home soon, and you can rest," Frank put the car back into drive, and pulled back onto the road.
Danny didn't say anything, he was too busy trying to get his mind on something else and not throw up all over again. The odor of the car was making it even harder to do so, but he was doing his best to keep everything down.
The remainder of the car ride was quiet, aside from a few moans that were escaping the eight-year-old in the passenger's seat. Erin's mouth and nose were too buried into the seat to make a sound. As for Frank, he was trying to concentrate on breathing out the open window while he drove.
"Keep it together son," Frank tried reassuring the boy several times, especially when the moans increased.
"I'm trying," Danny moaned, taking another sip from the water bottle.
"Try not to drink too much," Frank glanced him.
"But I'm thirsty," Danny complained.
"I know," Frank tried to sound encouraging. "I'm just trying to keep you from getting sick again."
"Where's Mom?" Danny sounded as if he was about to cry, and that's what made Frank really take notice, that his boy was sick. His boy may have been only eight, but he was an exceptional eight-year-old. And one that didn't succumb to tears very often.
"She's at home," Frank nodded.
"I want her," Danny shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"I know you do," Frank glanced at the clock on the dashboard, suddenly beginning to wish they didn't live so far away from the school. Getting the feeling the boy was about to get sick all over again. He was about to say something further to him, but he lost all track of what he was going to say when his son turned paler, this time throwing up all over himself.
"I want to go home," Danny looked at Frank, his eyes barely open.
"Do you want me to pull over?" Frank gestured as the boy's shirt, that was now sticking to his chest.
"No," Danny started to shift again.
"Take your shirt off and you can put my jacket on," Frank reached into the backseat and handed it to him. He would have pulled over to help him, but he had a feeling it would have made things worse, at least on the boy's part.
"But we're almost home," Danny recognized the neighborhood.
"I know," Frank admitted. "But with your mother being pregnant, her stomach is very sensitive."
The last thing little Danny wanted was to make his mother sick, so he begrudgingly undid the front buttons and pulled it off his shoulders. Before pulling his father's suit coat on.
The second they pulled into the driveway, Erin ejected herself from the car faster than she had ever done in her life, at least so Frank thought. Then again, he had to admit he didn't blame her, and probably would have done the same, had he not been the parent and stuck with the task of helping the sick boy in the seat next to him, as well as the one that was going to be stuck with cleaning out the car. Something he was dreading more than anything.
"What's wrong with Erin?" Mary asked walking out the front door of their home, after her daughter burst through the door and ran directly up the stairs to the safety of her bedroom, and away from her puking brother.
"Danny's sick," Frank answered, walking over to the passenger side of the car.
"Danny," Mary said gently, immediately concerned, as she hurried over to her little boy. She had just reached the car, when she caught a whiff of the car and its inhabitants when she started to gag. She converted her mouth, and Frank was quick to usher her as far away from the car and their son as possible. It took several minutes, but after a while Mary finally managed to pull herself together. Danny was still standing next to the car, and the look on his face made Mary want to cry. It was obvious he wanted her, and that made things all the more difficult.
"What happened?" Mary looked at her husband.
"I don't know," Frank shook his head. "One minute he was complaining about not feeling well, and the next thing I know, my car is filling with vomit."
"You take him upstairs and help him get cleaned up. I'm going to call the doctor." Mary started issuing orders before she even made it in the house.
"Is he running fever?" She knew she needed to know all his symptoms before placing a call in to their family doctor.
"I don't know," Frank said in all honesty. "It all happened so fast, I didn't get a chance to ask him much."
"Danny, can you tell Mom where you feel bad at?" Mary asked sweetly.
"My stomach hurts," Danny still had a hand resting on his belly.
"And?" Mary knew there had to be more to his ailment.
"My head hurts," Danny yawned.
"Anything else?" Mary reached into the bathroom cabinet for the thermometer.
"I don't know," Danny's voice showed such irritation, that it was obvious there was something more.
"Does your body hurt?" Mary was beginning to diagnose the boy even without the doctor's help.
With the thermometer in his mouth, all Danny could do was nod.
"I think it's the flu?" Mary looked over at her husband.
"And that's contagious," Franks voice held worry. Remembering his other two children, as well as his pregnant wife.
"Mhmm," Mary nodded, taking the thermometer out of her sons mouth just as soon as it beeped. "101," Mary placed a hand gently on her boy's forehead.
"Better keep the other kids away," Frank stated the obvious.
"Definitely," Mary certainly didn't relish the fact of having to care for three sick kids. "Where's Joe?" Frank noticed that he had yet to see his youngest.
"I was hit with several bouts of nausea this morning from the baby, so Betty came to get him. She said she will drop him off this evening." Mary enlightened him.
"It'll be hard to keep him away from his brother," Frank knew how hard it was to keep Joe from bothering Danny the second he got home from school and had to do his homework. He could only imagine what it was going to be like with both boy's home all day and one of them sick.
"That's why we need to get Danny settled before he gets home," Mary glanced at the clock in she and Frank's bathroom, knowing it was nearing 4:00 pm. "You help get Danny settled. I'm going to call the doctor." Mary left her husband in the bathroom, so she could go downstairs and get a call in to the doctor's house before they closed for the day.
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Finishing with her phone call, Mary hurried up the stairs. Being sure to stop by her son's room first, so she could get him a clean pair of pajamas, knowing he would be finishing up in the shower soon, and going straight to bed.
"Frank," Mary opened the door to their bathroom.
"Don't come in here," he warned.
Unfortunately for Mary the warning came a little late, and the same foul odor she smelt in the car hit her, causing her to slam her hand over her mouth, and make a run for the other bathroom. After giving herself a few minutes to freshen up and toss some cool water on her face, Mary redeemed herself.
"Mary, are you okay?" Frank met his wife at the doorway.
"Better now," she was still trying to catch her breath.
"What did the doctor say? Do we need to take him in?" Frank was trying to determine whether or not he should put the boy to bed or load him back into the car.
"The doctor said the flu's going around, and he will call him in some medicine," Mary started to say. She was about to say something further, at least until her husband interrupted.
"I'll go pick it up," Frank volunteered, starting for the stairs.
"I think I should do that," Mary really hated to say what the doctor told her. But she knew she couldn't keep it from her husband, and it was for her own good.
Frank didn't say anything, but he did look at her confused. Knowing that anytime it came to pharmacy stops, he was the one to make them.
"The doctor also said, that since I'm pregnant. I need to try and stay away from him." Mary enlightened him.
"Oh," was all Frank said, realizing that the care of his son was going to fall primarily to him. Which was fine in the afternoon and evening. The only problem was, he knew he still had to work his day tours. "What are we going to do?"
"I'll just have to take my chances," Mary knew that her job as a mother came first, before her own health if need be. As long as it wouldn't hurt her unborn child.
"You can't do that," Frank shook his head. "You've been sick every time you've been around him."
"That's only because of the nausea," Mary tried convincing him.
"I know," Frank nodded. "Which is the reason you don't need to be around him."
"But I've always been there to take care of him when he's sick," Mary appeared as if she was on the verge of tears, just thinking about not being able to care for her sick child.
"He'll understand," Frank nodded again, knowing that wasn't what his wife wanted to hear.
"He shouldn't have to," Mary shook her head. "He's still so young. And he needs his mother to hold him."
"I know," Frank sighed.
"Do you?" It was obvious the fact of not being able to care for her son was adding to the already emotional hormonal Mary. "I think you forget sometimes, that he's only eight."
"I know how old he is," Frank said honestly. "And I'll take care of him."
"You're going to hold him, reassure him, and not get upset when he doesn't want to eat, take his medicine or when he's just plain irritable because he doesn't feel well?" Mary still wasn't completely convinced.
"Mary," Frank ignored her question, chalking it up to pregnancy hormones. After all, he had already been through it three times before. And he knew that his wife knew how much he cared for his kids. "He's my son too."
"I'm sorry," Mary apologized, slow tears starting to fall down her cheek.
"Don't cry," Frank hugged her. "Danny's going to be fine, and you won't be pregnant forever."
"Sometimes it seems like it," Mary sighed, slowly staring to pull away from him. Knowing she needed to get to the pharmacy, so her son could get started on his medication.
After walking his wife out to her car, Frank returned up the stairs to check on his son, as well as to make sure that his daughter was working on her homework.
He didn't think the boy would be asleep already, but that didn't keep Frank from walking in his son's room as quietly as possible. Just as he suspected, Danny wasn't asleep, rather he was sitting up in bed, looking at a comic book.
"How you feeling?" Frank took a seat on the edge of the boy's bed.
"The same," Danny muttered.
"Mom called the doctor, and he said you had the flu. So, she went to pick you up some medicine." Frank enlightened him.
Danny scrunched up his face, when he heard the word medicine. Hating to take anything that was thick and tasted terrible, like all medicines did. At least in his opinion.
"What you reading?" Frank asked curiously.
"Batman," Danny showed him the cover.
"Is it good?" Frank smiled.
"I like it," Danny's voice wasn't showing excitement, like it normally did when he talked about something he enjoyed. And his eyes were squinting, from the discomfort he was feeling in his head.
"How about I read it to you for a bit," Frank volunteered taking it from him. "Then all you have to do is look at the pictures." Frank leaned against the boy's headboard.
"Dad," Danny spoke up, just before his father started reading.
"Hmm," Frank flipped through the pages of the comic book before landing on the page his son left off on.
"Are you mad at me?" Danny asked carefully.
"Why would I be mad at you?" Frank looked down at him. Suddenly remembering about what happened at school.
"Because I got in trouble at school, and threw up in your car?" Danny turned his head downward, as he fingered the bedspread he had covering him, part of him afraid to hear the answer, he knew was coming.
"No Danny I'm not mad. But I'd like to know what you got in trouble for." Frank said honestly. Considering he completely soiled the note that was meant to be signed and returned. It was up to Danny to tell him what happened. Word of mouth was something Frank preferred, at least when it came to his children getting in trouble.
He had to admit, he trusted the personnel at his children's school, and he didn't think they would lie, about his children. Yet at the same time, he knew his son, and would never put anything past his son's capabilities, even if he was only eight. Despite his son's creativity for finding trouble, he wasn't a mean-spirited child, and there were days that even he didn't get in trouble. Those days he had to admit were rare, but they were there.
"I fell asleep in class and made my teacher mad. After that, when she told us to go outside for recess. I told her no and argued with her." Danny hated to tell him the last two offenses, knowing that deliberately telling a teacher no, and then arguing with her, would be the part his father wouldn't approve of.
"Why did you do that?" Frank was at least hoping for a good excuse.
"I wasn't feeling good, and that's why I laid my head down. And she yelled at me for it." Danny started to explain.
"So, she made you upset," Frank interpreted.
"Yes," Danny said solemnly.
"When she wanted you go outside, why didn't you just tell her you didn't feel good instead of being defiant and arguing with her?" Frank wondered.
"I don't think she likes me and thought that I needed something to get my attention, and that's why she turned me in to Father Peter."
"Do you think if you would have told her, you wouldn't have gotten in trouble with him?" Frank had a feeling he knew the answer to the question, but he wanted to get his sons opinion.
"Maybe," Danny shrugged. "But I didn't want it to look like I was trying to get out of punishment. I'm not a baby."
"I know you're not," Frank admitted. "But I wish you wouldn't have had your knuckles rasped while you're sick."
"It's okay," Danny shrugged. "I can take a lot more."
"Maybe so, but you shouldn't have to when you're sick," Frank said pointedly.
"Are you going to punish me too?" Danny knew that normally when he got in trouble at school, there was even more consequences at home.
"No," Frank understood the reasoning behind his son's behavior. And it wasn't like he would have punished him even if he didn't. At least not with him sick.
"Thanks," Danny muttered, still staring at the bedspread in front of him. "I was kind of worried."
"You know me better than that don't you?" Frank questioned, lifting the boys chin up with his hand so he could look into his eyes. The look in his eyes was pathetic, and Frank could tell there was more than concern there, causing Frank to want to hurry their conversation along so he could rest.
"I guess so," Danny wasn't sure what else to say.
"Don't I always give you a chance to explain when you get in trouble?"
"Yes," Danny nodded, knowing that his father was speaking the truth.
"The next time you're sick, do you think you could tell your teacher and the nurse?" Frank questioned. "Maybe then you could make it out of there without getting into trouble, and without having to make it through the entire school day just to prove a point." Frank remembered Danny saying something about him feeling bad since that morning.
"I'll try," Danny figured that was all he could say. "But I still don't want to look like a woos."
Frank chuckled at the boy's response, and instead of replying, he turned his attention to the comic book and began reading aloud.
He had been reading for about 15 minutes, when he noticed the boy was fast asleep. After setting the book down and slipping off the side of the bed Frank repositioned his sleeping child, and silently made his way down the stairs. Knowing someone needed to be down there when his mother arrived with Joe.
All he really wanted to do was sit down with a beer and take a hot shower. But he knew his evening wouldn't allow that. He was going to be too busy being Dad to his sick child, since his wife was unable. He had just taken a seat in his favorite arm chair and picked up the TV remote, hoping to catch at least a few minutes of a football game before either Danny woke up, Erin came down or Joe came bounding through the door. Just as he suspected, it was only minutes before the front door opened and Joe yelled Daddy. Frank hated to get onto him just as soon as he saw him that day, especially since he was so excited to see him. Yet at the same time, he also didn't want Danny to get woken up, knowing how difficult it would be to get his uncomfortable and irritable son back to sleep.
"What's wrong?" Betty could tell something was wrong, just as soon as she saw her son.
"Danny's upstairs with the flu," Frank sounded exhausted already, and it was barely the first day since the sickness set in.
"Poor thing," Betty was going into full grandma mode, wanting to make her grandsons pain go away.
"He threw up all over himself and the car," Frank was still holding Joe over his shoulder when he said it, while the little boy giggled at being hung upside down.
"Is he in his room?" Betty sounded as if she wanted to go check on him herself.
"Sleeping last time, I checked," Frank replied, setting Joe down. Who was a little disappointed at being returned to stand on his own two feet.
Just as Frank finished his sentence, they heard the sound of feet running down the upstairs hallway, and the bathroom door slamming.
"I think he just woke up," Betty glanced at her son.
"I hope he made it," Frank moaned, taking the stairs two at a time. His mother following closely behind.
"Danny," Frank opened the door, just enough to allow him to look in. "You okay?"
"No," Danny moaned, resting his head against the bathroom wall. "I threw up again."
"At least you made it this time," Frank found himself grateful for the small things. Especially considering he still had a car to clean out. He had just opened the door all the way, so he could walk in. When Betty pushed past him.
"Danny," Betty said gently. "Do you need anything?"
"Is Grandpa here?" Danny looked at Betty intently.
"No," Betty felt bad, knowing how attached Danny was to his grandfather. "He's still at work."
"Can I have some water?" Danny figured that a glass of water would be the next best thing, with his throat being so dry.
"Of course, you can," Betty picked up the glass that was setting on the bathroom counter. After handing him the glass of water, she gently brushed her hand against his forehead. "He feels really warm," Betty looked over at her son.
"Mary should be here soon," Frank nodded.
"How was she feeling?" Betty asked as she wetted a wash cloth, that could be placed on the boy's forehead and hopefully help cool him down.
"She's still been sick this evening," Frank enlightened her. "And she can't be around Danny while he's sick."
"What?!" Danny spoke up rather loudly, appearing as if he was on the verge of tears when he learned he couldn't have his mother.
"You're still going to be taken care of," Frank assured him.
"But mom," Danny started to whine. Something that was normally completely out of character for the boy.
"Come here," Frank leaned over. "I'll carry you back to bed." He could tell the boy needed sleep, and a lot of it.
"But Mom," Danny whimpered, laying his head down, against his father's shoulder.
"Hush Danny," Frank quieted him, before placing a hand on the back of the boy's head. He felt warm, and he hoped the fever wouldn't get any higher, and keep him from sleeping. "Call me if you need me." Frank said laying him down.
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After tucking him back in, Frank and Betty returned down the stairs, where they found Joe sitting on the kitchen counter on a sugar high. Stuffing his face with the powdered donuts he pulled out of the pantry.
"Joseph!" Frank was doing his best to keep his voice down, as to not disturb Danny. But he was finding it rather difficult, after seeing the powdered sugar mess, covering both the boy's face and kitchen counter.
"Want one?" Joe wasn't a bit put out by his father's tone, as he held out a smushed donut.
"No, I don't want one," Frank picked him up off the counter, and carried him over to the sink so he could wash him up.
Betty picked up what was left of the donuts and returned them to the pantry. Only this time, placing them on a much higher shelf.
"Why did you mess in the pantry without permission?" Frank questioned him, as he dried the boys little hands with a dry dish towel.
"I don't know," Joe shrugged innocently.
"You can think about it while you spend a few minutes in time out," Frank carried him out of the kitchen and up to his bedroom.
"But I don't want to go to time out?" Joe started to cry.
"You should have thought about that before you got into the pantry and climbed on the counter." Frank reminded him that those were both things he wasn't allowed to do.
"But I's hungry," Joe was starting to cry even worse, when Frank picked up his toy cars and placed them in his pocket.
"I understand that," Franks voice was stern. "But you know you are supposed to ask first."
"But then you wouldn't have let me have any," Joe said pointedly.
"The only time your mother and I won't let you have a snack is when it's close to dinner time," Frank reminded him.
"How long do I have to stay in here?" Joe asked, rubbing his face.
"Till I think you've learned your lesson," Frank closed the door behind him.
Betty was just finishing up cleaning the messy counter, when Frank returned.
"Did Danny eat lunch today?" Betty wondered. Knowing the boy was going to need to eat at least a little something, if he was going to be able to take his meds.
"I don't know," Frank shook his head.
"Do you know what Mary has planned for dinner?" Betty was trying to determine if she should try to make something for her grandson to eat.
"I'm sure she does," Frank nodded. "But I don't know what they are," he admitted.
"Who's going to take care of Danny, since Mary can't?" Betty voiced the question she had been thinking about since Frank told her what the doctor said regarding his wife.
"I am," Frank had to admit he was still trying to figure it all out, considering he still had to work a couple more day tours that week. But he was sure that after a little thought, he would come up with something.
"What about work?"
"I'll think of something," Frank glanced at the clock.
"I can come help take care of him," Betty sounded as if she would be happy to do it. "I can come just as soon as your father leaves for work."
"I can't ask you to do that," Frank shook his head. It wasn't based on the fact that he wouldn't appreciate his mother's help. Knowing it would certainly keep him from worrying about things at home when he was on the job. Yet at the same time, he knew his mother had things to do, at her own home.
"You're not asking, I'm volunteering." Betty didn't sound as if she was willing to take no for an answer and appearing as if she would show up either way, just so she could help take care of her grandchildren. "He's my grandson. And if he can't have mom, grandma is the next best thing."
"If Grandma is the next best thing, where do I fit in at?" Frank sounded convinced. "You already did your part," Betty assured him. "You carried him to his room, you're going to clean out the car, care for him at night and you are going to work to pay for his medicine."
"At least I'm good for something," Frank smirked.
"I'll be over first thing in the morning," Betty knew she needed to get going so she could get dinner prepared before Henry got home.
"Only if you're sure you can handle it," Frank still wasn't a hundred percent convinced he wanted to put his mother through something like that. "A sick Danny Reagan is never a good thing."
Hope you all enjoyed the update, thanks for all the follows, favorites and reviews... JusticeStandsTRUE
