Chapter II: Trouble in Paradise

Time to get up already? I looked at the clock. Oh my God it was 8:30 am. Wait, it's my day off with Vicky. Riiiiiiiiiiiiight. Finally, a day off work. Ahhhh, sweet relief. I heard the television on in the family room. Hmmmmmmmmmmmm. One of those stupid little kids shows on Nickelodeon. Let's see what was it. Dora the Explorer, doesn't surprise me. Well, as long as it's educational, I'm good with it. I got up, got my cane, and went into the kitchen. I could see her dancing with the television.

"Good morning, sunshine," came a voice from the kitchen. I went in and saw Cameron's smiling face.

"Didn't expect to see you here."

"I'm your wife I live here."

"I meant… I thought you'd be at work."

"And leave Vicky here alone while you sleep? I don't think so. But now that your up…" kisses "Have fun, stay safe, love you lots." Goes to say goodbye to Vicky and kisses her on the head. "Bye sweetie, see you later."

"Bye bye mommy." Runs into the kitchen "Daddy'th awake." I picked her up, swung her upside down, and gave her a kiss. Did she have a rash on her neck? "Awe we gunna have fun today?"

"Yes we are. But first, daddy needs a shower."

"What about bweakfatht?"

"That's what McDonald's is for."

I finally didn't have to rush through my shower. It was nice. I had all the time in the world. I got dressed and got the keys for the bike. They weren't there. "She took the motorcycle?" Damn that woman. I guess I have to take the other cruddy car. "Vicky, TV off." The TV instantly turned off. Vicky padded into the room. She had her cute little sandals on and everything. "Unfortunately, your mother took daddy's motorcycle so, we'll have to take her car for the day." I'll admit it wasn't a bad car. A bright red mustang convertible was parked in the driveway. Vicky got in and put her seat belt on and looked up and smiled at me. "Somebody's excited. Well, here we go."

We went to the park and walked and walked, my leg didn't feel that bad. Probably because I took my mind off it. For some reason she wanted to chase the squirrels and birds that she saw. We were walking and she suddenly said "Daddy, I don't feel so good." No sooner did she say this she bent over and she threw up. I didn't know what to do. Suddenly, it occurred to me. I took out my cell phone and called Cameron.

"Hello, this is Allison Cameron/ House."

"Alli, its Greg." I knew I sounded like I was panicking. I didn't have time to disguise my voice.

"Greg, is everything alright? Where's Vicky?"

"No, everything is not right. Vicky's right here, vomiting."

"Oh my God. Bring her in." She hung up. Vicky finally stopped vomiting and I picked her up. The poor thing was crying. I did everything I could so I didn't cry too. We finally reached the car and I got her buckled up and we drove away. Wonderful, a day off work and I had to go in anyway.

We got to the hospital and Cameron was there waiting for us, I could tell she had been running because she was breathless, sweaty, and her hair was a mess. We got her into the examining room and I took her temperature. After all I was the doctor. The thermometer read 105 degrees F. I was almost afraid to show it to Allison, but I knew I had to. She gasped and looked up at me with tears in her eyes.

"Call a meeting," I told her.

"But what about…?"

"At the moment, I need to be a father, not a doctor."

"You're the only one who can help us." She looked anxious.

"Alright." I followed her into the meeting room. Chase and Forman were already there. Cameron must have called them before I got here.

"I thought…" started the Australian doctor.

"So did I." I turned on him. I went to my white board as usual.

"We don't know much about what she has," Forman said.

"What do we know?" I asked.

"Vomiting. For all we know it could just be that she's sick," Chase a.k.a. Mr. Negative. Always thinks the world should be simple. I wrote "vomiting" and "rash" on the board.

" 'Rash'?" said Allison. "She doesn't have a rash."

"Oh really? I'm prepared to prove you wrong. Excuse us." I grabbed Allison's hand and pulled her out the door, down the hall and into the room they put Vicky in. I showed Alison the rash on her neck.

"You were right."

"Does that surprise you?" She gently reached down and stroked her cheek. I felt the rash. It felt like sandpaper. "Alli, feel this." She felt the rash.

"It feels like…" she began.

"Sandpaper," I cut her off.