Disclaimer: All recognisable characters belong to Pixar. All OCs belong to me.
Chapter 9
The next morning, Lightning timidly followed his mother inside the hospital. She took him to a part of the huge complex where the doctors had their offices. Upon entering Dr Spark's office. Mrs McQueen went over to the receptionist.
"I made an appointment for Lightning at nine-thirty," she said.
"Yes, of course, Mrs McQueen," the receptionist smiled. "Please, take a seat. Dr Spark won't be long."
Mrs McQueen joined some of the other mothers who were waiting for Dr Spark to see their children. Lightning joined the other children in the middle of the floor where some toys were.
"What's wrong with you?" a dark green hatchback asked Lightning.
"I have Jaguar Syndrome," he replied.
"Never heard of it. I'm allergic to fuel."
Lightning raised his eyebrows in surprise. "How do you eat?"
"I can't. I was converted to LPG when I was a baby."
"Oh."
"What is Jaguar Syndrome?"
"My engine is too powerful for me to handle."
"Can it be cured?"
"Dr Spark says I'll grow out of it. Eventually."
"Oh."
At that moment, Dr Spark entered the waiting room and he went over to the receptionist. She handed him a file.
"Lightning McQueen?" Dr Spark said.
"Come on, Lightning," Mrs McQueen said, ushering Lightning away from the toys. They entered Dr Spark's office.
"Mrs McQueen," Dr Spark smiled. "Lightning. How are you feeling today?"
"A bit tired," Lightning replied.
"He raced at his school sports carnival yesterday," Mrs McQueen explained. "Dr Wheel said he pushed his engine too hard, and he managed to displace his speed limiter. He was in a lot of pain last night."
"I see," Dr Spark frowned. "Come closer, Lightning, and I'll take a look."
Lightning hesitated before going over to Dr Spark. He slowly lifted his hood, and Dr Spark began examining Lightning's engine and the speed limiter.
"Yes, the speed limiter has been displaced," he finally said, looking at Mrs McQueen, "I can correct it now, but it will hurt, so I'll have a nurse come and administer a local anaesthetic to him."
Lightning gulped and he closed his eyes tightly. Dr Spark spoke to someone on the phone for a moment. Then he turned his attention back to Lighting, and he closed Lighting's hood.
"You can play with the toys for a moment until the nurse arrives."
Lightning hesitated, but then he made a dive for the toy basket. He landed on the edge, tipping the basket upside down and spilling the toys everywhere! Dr Spark and Mrs McQueen laughed.
"I guess someone's excited," Dr Spark chuckled.
Lightning found a ball, and he kicked it across the room. It went under a bench, and Lightning went after it, squeezing himself under the bench too. At that moment, a nurse entered the room.
"Yes, Dr Spark?"
"I just need you to administer a local anaesthetic to young Lightning."
"Of course. Err… Where is he?"
"Come on out, Lightning," Mrs McQueen called.
"No!" Lightning whimpered.
Shaking her hood, Mrs McQueen reached under the bench, and she dragged Lightning out. Lightning kicked his tyres wildly until Mrs McQueen placed him on top of the hydraulic lift.
"Settle down, Lightning!" she scolded.
Lightning pouted. Dr Spark held Lightning still, while the nurse lifted his hood. Lightning whimpered and trembled while the nurse prepared the anaesthetic.
"It's okay, Lightning," Dr Spark soothed. "This isn't going to hurt."
"I'm just going to put a few drops of anaesthetic inside your engine," the nurse explained.
Lightning closed his eyes tightly. The nurse placed the drops inside Lightning's engine.
"There you go," she said. "Your engine will start to feel numb in a few minutes."
Sure enough, it did. The nurse left, and Dr Spark began to adjust Lightning's speed limiter. It didn't hurt, but Lightning quickly became restless. Mrs McQueen had to hold to him still.
Before long, the procedure was over. As soon as Mrs McQueen released Lightning, he took off and hid underneath the bench again. Dr Spark sighed.
"I'm glad to see he still has heaps of energy."
"I'm just delighted that his Jaguar Syndrome is well and truly under control now," Mrs McQueen smiled.
"How's his appetite?"
"Not bad. Some nights he won't eat all his dinner, but it think that's fairly normal for a child of his age."
"Very much so. Is he sleeping well?"
"Yes. He goes to bed at eight o'clock sharp, and we wake him up at seven o'clock for school each weekday morning. On weekends, we let him sleep-in until nine o'clock if he needs it."
"So, he's getting at least eleven hours sleep each night."
"Is that okay?"
"It's perfectly adequate for a child his age. How's he going at school?"
"Quite well. He's excelling in sports; especially soccer and athletics. He also does well in science and English. His father and I wish he could improve in maths and road safety though."
"We can't all be good at everything. I don't think you have anything to worry about. Lightning is very healthy and happy. And mischievous…" Dr Spark added as Lightning kicked the ball out from beneath the bench. It rolled over to Dr Spark. He placed his wheel on top of the ball to stop it rolling.
"It's time to go now, Lightning," Mrs McQueen said. She looked at Dr Spark. "Thank you for your help."
"Not at all. I enjoy caring for Lightning. I'm just glad to see him doing so well."
"Will he be okay to drive home?"
"Yes. But don't let him go faster than fifty miles an hour for a day, and he's not to race at his top speed for at least a month."
"But I love racing!" Lightning protested.
"Just take it easy for a while," Dr Spark cautioned. "Otherwise, you could damage your speed limiter, or your engine, and if you damage your engine now, you'll never be able to race when you're older, unless you have an engine replacement, which is a very serious operation."
"I don't want Lightning to race. Ever," Mrs McQueen said firmly. "Please, don't encourage him, Dr Spark."
"Very well, Mrs McQueen. I won't. I'll see Lightning again for a check-up in about six months."
Mrs McQueen nodded. "Thank you. Come on, Lightning."
Lightning followed his mother out of the office. He paused in the doorway and, turning, he cast Dr Spark a small smile. Then he scampered after Mrs McQueen.
