Lyra

Song Recommended: Someone to you by BANNERS

I walked into my parents’ room tiptoweing not to scare them too much. Mom was a light sleeper but no matter how little noise I made, she would always wake up startled. Dad snored loudly beside her, spooning her from behind. His hand was protectively holding mommy's tummy, where my little brother was growing.

'Mommy, I don't feel so good.'

I had unshed tears in my eyes. It was the third time this week I couldn't hold dinner in my belly and woke up with an uncontrolable nausea, vomiting all over myself.

Mommy's eyes shot open and she sat up really fast scaring daddy, who sat right next to her immediately. She looked at me with pity in her eyes and her hand gently cupped my left cheek.

'Hey, munchkin... Let's clean you up, shall we? Robert, we need to take her to the hospital. She's white as a sheet. Lyra, let's take a shower, and we'll be on our way to see what is happening, ok? I'll call Doctor Esposito. You remember him, right? He always gives you a lollipop when you are a good girl!'

Mommy spoke kind reassuring words to me while taking me to my room so I could take a shower. I heard daddy pacing around the room and talking on the phone in his always-so-calm voice. But he had concern on his eyes.

'Phil, it's me. Lyra is vomiting again, it's the third time this week. No, I don't think so... She's running a fever. Ok... I understand. Meet you there in 20 minutes.'

I had vomit on my panda pijamas, my favorite ones. My bed was a nasty mess. While I showered, mommy changed her clothes, my bed linen and took all the dirty laundry away. She waited for me in the room. I ran back to the toilet to throw up some more.

'Mommy...' My lips were trembling. Throwing up was so gross... My stomach was hurting so bad I kept my arms around myself. Mommy's eyes were wide as she looked at my chest and her eyes went straight to the bruises on my ribs, raising her eyes to the bruises in my left arm.

'I know, baby girl. I know... Let's see what is going on, ok? You'll be better in no time. Let's dry this hair very well, put on some cozy clothes and we'll be on our way to the doc.'

'I wanna take Stitch with me!' I was already almost dressed, when I ran to my bed and got my stuffed Stitch, from Lilo and Stitch and hugged it tight. Mommy nodded and held my jacket open so I would slide my tiny arms in it.

We all rode to the hospital together, my head on my mommy's chest as she was holding me tighter than she has ever held me before. Daddy paid attention to the road but always with a hand on my hair, soothing me the best way he could.

When we arrived to the hospital, an elderly man with the kindest smile and white coat was waiting on the emergency room door on one knee and arms wide open. 'Where is my favorite patient?'

I gave him a small smile, the best I could, and slowly walked into his arms. He smelled like detergent and aftershave. 'Hi, Uncle Phil... I'm not fee...'

As consciousness slipped me, I heard mommy screaming my name, felt Uncle Phil's hand soothing my back and whispering 'You'll be ok, Lyra.' in my ears.

Bip. Bip. Bip... Bip.

I woke up in a strange room. I looked behind me to see little lights of many colors blinking on a few tiny screens. In those screens I could see some numbers. I could count to a million! Miss Nancy said I was very good with numbers. Next week we would be learning how to multiply. I was excited for it. Why is number 98 blinking?

I felt a shiver down my spine and my eyes searched around the room for mom and dad. My tummy didn't hurt anymore, but my mouth was really dry. 'Mommy?'

'I'm here, cub. Daddy's here.' Daddy held my hand tight and gave me the same uncomfortable smile he gives grandma whenever she says he looks too chubby. Why is he giving me that smile? Daddy is happier when he is with me and mommy.

'I'm thirsty... Can I have some water, please? And where is mommy?' I felt the bed underneath me moving and I was placed in a sitting position, daddy gave me a plastic cup with water and some ice in it. My eyes found mommy through my room's door window. She was in tears, but being strong, as she taught me to be. Uncle Phil was stroking her arm and murmuring things I could not hear from this far.

'Daddy, why is mommy sad?' When I paid attention to my dad's face, he had puffy eyes. The weird smile did not leave his face while he was looking at me. Suddenly, his hand went to my hair and he stroked it just like he always does.

'My brave cub, remember when we watched Shrek the other day? And he had to face a dragon and we were all laughing while we were watching him and Donkey in their journey and in the end everything ended well?' He lowered the arm of the bed and climbed in bed with me, hugging me tight.

'Yeah, Donkey and the Dragon fell in love! Their babies were so weeeeird!' I giggled. Suddenly, I had 'All Star', the movie's soundtrack in my mind and it made me smile a little more.

'Cub, we got a dragon to face. But I promise you that we'll slay it together. You, mommy, Tommy and , ok?' I heard dad sniffing and hugging me even tighter.

My name is Lyra Miller. I'm 9 years old and I have Acute Myeloid Leukemia.

Bip. Bip. Bip. Bip.

Bip.

Mommy is rubbing her belly again and looking worried. I know Tommy is ok, because she showed a picture of him in her belly and said he is big and strong and can’t wait to meet me. Bip. And that’s why I needed to keep being brave and not afraid of the nurses whenever they needed to check my blood sugar by poking my finger with a needle or taking some blood for some tests.

After daddy explained to me we would have to slay a dragon at that scary night, Uncle Phil and mommy walked into the room and explained what was going to happen. Bip. I was told I’d need to visit a center with kids just like me, slaying a dragon, and that I would need to take strong medicine to make sure the dragon went away and never came back. Bip. The medicine would make my hair go away, but just for a little while. Mommy said I could play dress up and wear many wigs, in many colors. Even purple! So losing my hair didn’t bother me. Bip.

It’s been a week. A week of running around hospitals with mommy and daddy, seeing mommy sneak out to cry, and I always knew she cried because when she came back to my room she had red and puffy eyes. Daddy wasn’t any different. Bip.

Today I’ll have to sleep here at the clinic. Uncle Phil said I need to be a good girl and eat well today because tomorrow I’ll start something called Chemotherapy. Bip. Good thing I brought Stitch with me, he will keep me company. My body aches, like I ran around the playground a thousand times and I’m not hungry at all. But mommy brought my favorite food ever, pepperoni pizza. And I don’t want to let her down. So I’m eating it. Bip.

Whenever mommy asks me to choose a story for her to read to me before I go to bed, I choose the story of how my parents met. It’s really funny. Daddy was silly and mommy was very shy. Bip. They met at a bar when they were in college and daddy spilled his drink on mommy. Few months after that, daddy said he was smitten and couldn’t imagine life without mommy and 10 years later, here we are!

Biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip...

‘CODE BLUE!’

Two months later...

‘Lyra Miller, 9 years old. Acute Myeloid Leukemia on her 10th round of chemotherapy today. Blood pressure is normal, blood sugar is normal, white cells count is low, and she has been admitted last night due to...’

It’s been my millionth time being admitted into the clinic. And they are doing those stupid rounds again. Rounds is when a group of doctors is starting their shifts and have visit each patient and act as if we are not even there. I feel like a guinea pig. I keep being poked around with needles, hearing the words ‘this treatment is new...’, and ‘don’t worry, Lyra, this will hurt just a bit’.

My hair started falling out when I started chemo and I asked my parents to just shave it all off. After my heart stopped for a little while a couple of months ago, I had to stay in the clinic for a week and my parents showed me around. It’s a really nice place with a lot of kids just like me. I befriended a boy named Dylan, who had been admitted just a week before me.

I had three wigs: A long blonde one with bangs that I loved, kinda similar to my actual hair, the bangs hid the fact I had no eyebrows anymore. A purple one, also with bangs but it was shorter, it was shoulder-length. And a pink one, same style as my blonde wig, long and... bangs.

I had fun playing with my wigs, I pretended to be whoever I wanted to be! Dad always giggled when I had either my pink or purple wigs on. But no matter what hair I chose to put, he always said I looked like a princess.

Today is Sunday. Mom and Dad are sitting across my bed in a big couch I had in my room. Mom’s reading one of her novels with a pretty man on the cover and dad is with his Kindle, no idea what he is reading but he has a serious face on, gotta be something business-related.

‘Can Dylan come play?’ I was bored. I spent all day in bed, with a fever. Chemo was working but I was too tired all the time. It was super annoying. When Dylan visited he always brought a board game with him and we had the best time. Last time I saw him, he looked more tired, a little sad too. He said he was not sure his chemo was working.

Dylan Thompson was 12 years old. Same cancer as me. His dad passed away when he was four, in a car accident so it was just him and Auntie Tina, his mom. His mom and my parents became good friends in the past couple of months and they were always visiting us.

Mom lifted her head with a bright smile. ‘I was going to make you a surprise, but you are way to fast, bunny.’

A knock on our door made me jump out of bed and I ran to open it. ‘Hiiii!!’ Dylan smiled as he held his mother’s hand. He had pictionary under his other arm.

‘It’s game day!’ He giggled and they walked inside. Dylan was a bit taller than me. Normal, he was a bit older too. He didn’t like wigs, said it was a girl thing, so he always had a baseball cap on. He had many colors. Today’s was black.

‘Hey, buddy. How are you feeling today?’ Mom asked.

‘Hm... I’m ok. My body aches a bit, auntie. But doc said it’s normal. I’ll run some tests this week to know better how my chemo is doing.’ He gave her a sad smile. He told me that he misses running around with his friends. Chemo made us really weak and not in the mood to do anything.

We left our parents in the living room and went to the backyard to play.

‘Doc told mom and I that I’m doing well on chemo, Lyra. That if you continue this way I might be cancer-free in a few months. But I don’t feel better. I feel like poo more and more every day.’

‘Well, mommy said it’s normal. Because we get medicine every day in our bodies. You’ll be ok, Dylan! If Uncle Phil said so, you’ll be ok.’

‘Lyra, I gotta ask you something.’

‘Hm?’ My attention was towards the game, I was leaning over the yard table to pay close attention not to lose again. He often beat me on the games we played.

‘Have you ever kissed a boy?’

I looked at him with a grossed-out face. As if he ate snot or something like it. ‘Ew, no. Why would I ever wanna do that?’

‘People do that, you know? Kiss.’ His comment made me wonder. That was true.

‘Mommy and daddy do. It’s gross!’ I resumed my ‘ew’ face.

‘Mom said she used to kiss my dad and they did it because dad thought mom was beautiful and she thought he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen.’ Dylan gave me a shy smile.

‘Well... I wanna be kissed by a prince someday.’

‘Do you want your prince to think you don’t know how to kiss?’ His shy smile became a grin.

‘Of course not! Shut up...’ I blushed and looked back to the game.

‘I can help you, you know? So your prince doesn’t think you’re a weirdo for not kissing well.’

‘Why would you do that?’ I looked at him with a suspiscious face.

‘Because I think you are beautiful, Lyra.’

I smiled at him, leaned over the table and kissed his cheek. ‘You’re beautiful too, Dylan.’

He giggled and shook his head. ‘Nevermind, squirt. You’re losing the game...’

‘But how? I was so careful...’

We carried on with our day not talking about kissing princes anymore, laughing and playing games, while our parents cooked and shared stories in the living room.

1 month later...

Thomas Miller was born last week. My little brother. Mommy and daddy were overjoyed to introduce him to me. He was very little, very pink, very... fragile. He looked like the dolls I had when I was a toddler. I can’t wait to show him all of my dolls. I’d share Stitch with him if he cries too much. Yeah, I think he’ll like it.

It was hospital day again. I stayed overnight because my stomach was bothering me a lot again and Uncle Phil said he wanted to run some tests.

‘Lyra Miller, 9 years old...’ It was six in the morning and five doctors, all in white coats walked into my room waking me up. Same thing as always, bunch of people saying out loud that I was sick and what they were doing to make me feel better.

Mom and dad were home, Uncle Phil convinced them that there was no need for them to stay over. And I told them I was a big girl. Stitch and I watched movies most of the night and whenever my tummy ached, I could press a button and Clara would show up. She was my nurse and she was so cool! She gave me popsickles whenever I had chemo sessions.

The doctors didn’t leave my room as fast as they used to. They were having a conversation about my cancer and the eldest doctor kept asking them questions and they were answering to them like good students. I sighed. I was tired, and they wouldn’t let me sleep. Putting the blanket over my head didn’t help. I tried muffing the sound of their voices by pressing my pillow above my head. When I did that, I heard someone giggling by my bed. I peeked under the pillow to see someone beside my bed, away from the little group of doctors.

He whispered: ‘They are annoying and won’t let you sleep, huh?’

I put the pillow back under my head and with sleepy eyes, I yawned and stretched my arms without looking at him while whispering back: ‘Is sleeping a crime? Is that why you are all here?’

He laughed a bit louder. ‘Sorry, kiddo. We’ll be on our way.’

None of the doctors but Uncle Phil ever spoke to me. When I realized that, I looked at the owner of that soothing and friendly voice beside my bed. He was tall. Not normal tall... ‘Looking-up-until-your-neck-hurts’ tall. His eyes were really blue, like the sea when it is very clean, or the sky. He had a nice face... A kind smile. Didn’t look as old as Uncle Phil, though. Uncle Phil was really old. This guy was... Younger. Maybe in his twenties.

‘Hi...’ I blushed when I realized I stared at the friendly doctor for too long.

‘Hi, Lyra. How are you feeling today?’ He looked at my monitor and took some notes for a few seconds and his attention was back to me in no-time.

‘My tummy doesn’t hurt anymore... So I’m ok. Who are you?’

‘I’m Dr. West. One of your doctors. Your Uncle Phil is my professor and I’m part of his team of interns. So I’ve been helping taking care of you too. You’re a warrior, kiddo! I’m happy to hear your tummy is better. Let me know if you need anything, ok?’

‘Ok... Thank you...’ I gave him a shy smile and he pat my head in return, also smiling to me.

That was the first time I enjoyed the doctors doing their rounds.

The older doctor handed a folder to Dr. West and his kind smile disappeared, transforming into a worried face I was way too familiar with. Something was wrong.

‘Ben, page Phil and call her parents.’

Uh-oh.

‘What did I do, Dr. West? Am I in trouble?’ I sat up on the bed and tried peeking to see what was in the papers that required him to call mommy and daddy here. He shook his head and tried smiling one more time but it just made his worried face worse. Which meant he wasn’t going to tell me the truth. I don’t like liars, they have big noses. Dr. West had a nice nose, though. Pointy and ok for the size of his head.

‘Lyra, we just need to talk to them about your treatment. You are not in trouble, but you’re a kid. We can’t give you new things here at the hospital without your mommy or daddy knowing about it. So we gotta call them here.’ With that said, he closed the folder and got his phone from his coat pocket, typing quickly in it.

‘I gotta go, but your uncle will be here in a few minutes, ok? Nice meeting you, kiddo.’ With that, he rushed out of the room with the other doctors leaving me alone and confused holding Stitch tightly in my arms.

2 months later...

‘Happy birthday tooooo yoooou...’

It was my 10th birthday today. Everyone I loved was in the room clapping their hands, smiling and wishing me a happy birthday. Mom, dad, Dylan, Auntie Tina, Uncle Phil and his wife, Auntie Fawn, my friends from school and some of their mommies, my grandpas and grandmas! Everyone but him. Why didn’t Ben show up? Doesn’t he like cake? Doesn’t he like me? I thought he was my friend...

It was my time to blow the candles. I caught as much air as I could in my lungs and held my breath to make a wish:

‘I wish I wasn’t sick anymore...’

With that in mind, never saying it out loud, the candles were out in a single blow.

A few minutes later, the doorbell rang and there he was, smiling from ear-to-ear holding a present box. Ben. I ran from one side of the room to get to him and gave him the biggest hug in the world. He giggled and hugged me back with one arm as his other one was still holding the present box. For the past month he had been very important. Uncle Phil and him gave me a new treatment and I was feeling better each day. My chemo ended last week and my hair was still short, but growing back. But today, I had my purple wig on.

‘I’m sorry I’m late. I had a few consults at the hospital. Got you something, though!’ He handed me the box and I ripped it open in a heartbeat, while saying thank you out loud. When I finally got its content out, my eyes grew big and I couldn’t hold back a huge grin while whispering ‘Wicked...’

It was a Stitch as big as me.

‘The surprise isn’t over, kiddo. There is something else in there.’ He poked the box and pointed his eyebrows towards it, grinning, to get my attention to what was in the bottom of it. There was a purple plastic sign with a sentence written in white. He had it made... And the words simply said...

‘You are cancer-free.’