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Magda came back with two coffees, a bottle of water, and a pile of cookies in every flavor imaginable. Anyone watching her would have thought she'd bought out the entire cafeteria.

"Okay, I didn't know what you'd want or what they'd let him eat, so I brought everything I could find. Ignacio said to take all the time we need, and if we're still here when he gets off work, he'll either come here or head straight to the house," she told us as she arranged everything on a small table and wheeled it over to the bed.

"The doctor just came by to let us know they'll take him for the X-ray shortly, and the CT scan is scheduled for five. The nurse already drew blood and took a urine sample — results should be back in two hours," I said, sipping my coffee.

She nodded and started chatting with Lyon about some video games she'd gotten him as a birthday present. She promised to give them to him the minute we got home so he could try them out tomorrow, since he'd probably be put on rest.

The doctor returned to let us know they'd be taking him for the X-ray and that a slot had opened up for the CT scan right now, so he'd be gone from the room for a while. It wasn't until they wheeled him away that I was finally able to release the breath I'd been holding and let all the tears come.

"Easy. He's going to be fine." Magda didn't wait a beat before pulling me into a tight hug.

"That's the only thing I'm asking for — that my son is okay," I said, feeling the pressure in my chest refuse to ease.

The hour he was away from me felt agonizingly endless. I'd never spent this long in a hospital before. There'd been one time he fell off his bike and banged up his knee, but the most we'd been here was forty-five minutes between the X-ray and them giving me painkillers, since the pain was just from the impact and he had no serious injuries. Now everything felt different. There'd been no warning sign that he would faint. The bump on his head was significant, and you could still tell he was weak no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

"We're back," the doctor said as the door swung open.

Lyon's spirits had lifted considerably. He was excitedly describing his experience with the CT scanner and how they'd let him see the images of his own brain.

"As soon as I have the results, I'll come find you so we can talk outside." Despite the smile on his face, I caught the worried tone Gonzalo used to deliver that information. All I could do was nod, while another knot formed rapidly in my throat.

We waited almost thirty more minutes before the nurse came to tell me the doctor was ready with the results. I looked at Magda so she'd understand she needed to stay with Lyon, and I walked out with my hands beginning to sweat from fear.

Gonzalo was standing beside the emergency department counter, reading a folder that I assumed held my son's results. I approached slowly and stood beside him.

"All right, I have all the results here, and I have to tell you — there's nothing to worry about." My legs turned to jelly at that news, and I know he could tell, because he caught me by the waist and helped me to some chairs.

"What does he have?" I managed, my voice strangled by the knot that wouldn't leave my throat.

"He had a vasovagal syncope — a type of fainting that occurs when heart rate and blood pressure drop suddenly. That reduces blood flow to the brain and causes a brief loss of consciousness. It's something that needs monitoring, but it's not nearly as alarming as the blow he took to the head," he explained in a reassuring tone.

"But why? What causes it? He just had tests done recently and nothing ever came back wrong," I said, trying to force air into my lungs.

"There are many factors that can trigger a fainting episode. Standing still for too long, like during school assemblies. Heat exposure, especially in crowded or stuffy places. Emotional stress — fear, anxiety, or seeing blood. Pain from things like injections or injuries. Dehydration from not drinking enough water. Skipping meals, which causes low blood sugar. Fatigue and exhaustion." As he listed the causes, I tried to remember if any of them had ever applied.

"He eats well at breakfast. He's not afraid of blood or needles or anything like that — in fact, when the nurse drew his blood he watched the vial fill up. He's never had an accident like this. The only time was when he fell off his bike. I don't understand. Tell me what to do — how to help him." The words came out faster than I meant to say them. My hands were sweating harder and had started to shake.

"Listen, first I need you to calm down. Second, he's fine. My recommendations are a healthy diet rich in fruits, vegetables, and protein, plenty of hydration, and perhaps a session with a psychologist." Those last words made me stare at him as if he'd sprouted a second head.

"A psychologist?"

"Don't misunderstand me. Stress is also a cause of these fainting episodes, and while we were on our way to the CT scanner, I tried making small talk to relax him. I noticed that when I mentioned his father, he tensed up and his curiosity about the equipment instantly switched to anger or frustration." What he was telling me made sense. Lyon had never once asked me about his father, but I knew that on the father-son days they celebrated at school, he preferred to spend them at home with Magda or me — to avoid the questions, or maybe the teasing.

"Can you recommend someone?" I asked.

"Yes. I have a friend who works with children right here at this hospital. If you'd like, I can call her to set up an appointment and explain what happened so she has some idea of how to approach the subject." I nodded and thanked him. "We'll keep him under observation for a few more hours and then you can go. I'll prescribe two days of rest and no physical activity for two weeks. I'll give you a list of foods he should eat regularly, although the blood work didn't reveal any vitamin or mineral deficiency." He was writing everything down without taking his eyes off me — maybe he thought I'd be the next one passed out on the floor. "The head injury didn't cause any internal damage, so once he stays awake for another two or three hours, he'll be fine. If he gets dizzy, vomits, or faints again, come back here immediately. I'll be on call until eight tomorrow morning. Have him eat something light for dinner tonight, but make sure he eats." He handed me the papers and walked me back to my son's room. "Relax. He's going to be just fine."

I nodded and went inside, ready to sit down again beside my little boy, who was now playing cards with his aunt.

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