The Relativity Series: The Fever Syndrome (Part 6)
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All the world's a stage and all the men and women merely players. You can stream the entire L.A. TheatreWorks catalog of plays. Find out more at streaming.latw.org. Now, L.A. TheatreWorks continues with The Fever Syndrome by Alexis Ziegerman, directed by Sarah Drew.

What did you give her the phone for? You knew I'd confiscated it. I didn't know. For fuck's sake, Nate! Do you know how much harder this is when you two are conspiring against me? I told her to read a book. Read Wonder. That her uncle bought her. I told her to read it again. She called it puerile, which is really quite advanced. Her vocabulary is well beyond someone in her grade or even a grade above.

I told her she could have the phone for 30 minutes. She was bored. You know what comes out of boredom? Great thought. Creativity. Discovery. She has all that too. Her generation doesn't know how to be bored. You're overly harsh on her. I'm sorry? You come down pretty hard. She's sick. I know she's sick. I slept on the floor last night terrified she was going to have another seizure. God, the insurance may not come through.

The new medication. It might not work. Her temp is down for now. The episodes are becoming more frequent. But she's getting better at handling them. Should we do the steroids again? I hate the steroids. Just for today. So she can get through the awards. I told her she's not going to the awards. Why? Because I said so. Nate, just have my back. So who's staying home with her? Was there any point in us coming? Lily and me?

Did you ever want me at the ceremony, or am I just some embarrassing spouse? Nate! Some disgraced scientist who you didn't want to be named on a table plan? Nate, no one is going to remember. Oh, so you have thought about it? No. Well, how could you not when your family's favorite parlor game is pinning the tail on my ass? You're being paranoid. Everyone does it. Everyone cheats. They magpie. We are not all bursting forth with nascent ideas spawned out of boredom. Christ!

Your father's taken credit for other people's work. Decorates himself as one of the great innovators of IVF. They all worked very closely together at Bourne Hall. He acknowledges where he needs you. I was going to run those tests anyway. I'd have got there with or without talking to that PhD student in his fucking poster. You know other scientists procrastinate on peer reviews. They delay to get their papers published first. There's far worse crap going down all the time, but the real punch to the gut... Can we just get through this afternoon?

And then we can go home. The punch to the gut is that you don't believe in me. Oh, come on! You do not want to change the narrative of this marriage. It suits you to keep me where I am so you can control all the variables around you. That budding yeast fiasco nearly cost me my position. Our house! Well, it's all about how things reflect on you. On your status, your family. Right! That's it. Our family. I'm not talking about Lily and me. I'm talking about the fucking Myers. Your family. Lily!

The Mishpucha of Myers. There is only you and Lily. Bullshit. We are not enough for you. Okay. That's why you want to screen the embryos. I want another child. Not any child, though, right? One that fits the bill? A healthy child. To filter out life because it doesn't suit your narrative.

It isn't ethical. Oh, don't be glib. You know PGD screens for diseases that can kill, that can cause premature death. There are lots of factors that can cause premature death. This conversation can cause premature death. Not affect quality of life. You want another child with fever syndrome? She's not something to be fixed. We're not working on the Lilly Development Research Project. Oh, come on. With your TED Talks and your Montessori homeschool? Children get sick.

There is no perfect child. Don't patronize me. You're dissatisfied with your lot. Your father called it. You're dissatisfied. Fuck you, Nate. Ethically opposed to screening diseases? You are really showing your true colors. I'm allowed an opinion. Do not fucking cut off my opinion. It's the only appendage I have left. An unscientific one. A human one. A fucking Christian one. You are no scientist. Oh, you're right. I'm not.

I'm not your father. Nobody ever can be. Not me, not Lily. We're all just gargantuan, Meyer-sized disappointments. I'll drive Lily back. Back to Washington, Nate? No. We'll all go to the lunch. I really don't want to go. Please. You remember when Lily had her first episode? She was three months old. She was tiny. Beetroot red from this raging fever, her whole body burning up, and we kept giving her Tylenol.

It didn't bring the fever down. We took her to Dr. Sherman. He said it was just a virus and we watched her struggle through six days of pain and fire in her fragile body. And then it happened again a few weeks later. Another virus. They tell us kids get sick. And we knew after months of this, of her crying out in pain, I knew something wasn't right.

And when I took her to the pediatrician, the look that he gave me, not you, not you, Nate. He looked at you with some kind of weary spousal camaraderie, but he turned to me and told me to manage my expectations as a parent. Kids get sick. Calm down. Don't fight. Don't question his judgment. I relive that moment all the time where I shrank away and I didn't fight back. I didn't push. I...

Want to know what it's like to parent a child who isn't sick all the time. I die inside every time she cries out, Mama, I die. I think of it as Lily's superpower. Her over-primed immune system. The way it goes into fight mode all the time. Even attacking her own body. See, that genetic mutation is Lily's one in a million superpower. And it might lead to something great.

Like what? I don't know. Inflammation of the heart and liver? Not being able to walk unaided? What does it lead to? Her learning to fly? Because if you mention the bubonic plague one more time... I don't know. Can we at least store the embryos for another year? Sign the consent and let me have them, then. They need a signature from both of us. If you can't decide, they just get destroyed. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

You know what you don't want to hear when you ask someone to spend the rest of their life with you? Richer, poor, sickness, health? Is that they want to sleep on it. Yes. Okay. I'm sorry. I do. I do. Of course. I want to marry you. What? Not contrite enough? You want me to get down on one knee? Tom. My dad is dying. Philip, my siblings...

Have reached Shakespearean levels of power play. This isn't the day for me to be managing you because I did or didn't react to something correctly. Something? Right, exactly. Big life-changing decisions. Oh, come on. You're still coming today. You think I don't understand what's going on with your dad. What do you think cocaine does to the brain?

It kills dopamine neurons. So you have to do more and more coke to chase the same high. Your dad's dopamine levels are so low, the medication isn't working anymore. You don't have to be a scientist to know that. Okay. This is really hard for you. I get that. I'd be crushed if this was my father. Uh-huh.

You don't see me as a serious person. You never have. You want me to be some vacuous piece of meat you met at a bar. Oh, if only. That's what you think you want. Just because we can have children doesn't mean we should. My father made it possible for thousands, millions of children to be born to infertile parents, single parents, gay-as-fuck parents...

children who wouldn't have existed otherwise. And you have to stop and ask yourself, was it right for all these children who've actually been born? It's not a human right to be a fucking parent. You were born by IVF. You're saying that you should have never been born. Maybe. That is self-pitying bullshit. You think once they've worked out the gay gene, you think once they've worked out that pansy-ass gene, people like us will still be there? So your dad's a little homophobic.

Him and half his generation. You know the shit that I had to put up with at home? Stop making out like you drew the short straw. Your father loves you. I love you. Stop pushing us all away. You know what? Just go.

I don't need the complication. Where do you go when these defenses go up? You're right. I want a piece of meat. I want easy. When you say things like that, because I know the real Tom. I want average. Do you hide under your bed like a little boy? Maybe. We are all children hiding under beds. Fuck you and your fucking NA groups. You know, that's the most interesting thing about you. You're too proud to want average. You'd rather be miserable and great. Yes, I would. And end up alone. If I have to, I would.

I have the agony and ecstasy. I do not want stimulants. I don't want to talk about fucking artists. That does not mean that you have to be an asshole. I want a fucking dunce. I want someone pretty and vacuous. Everything has to be a great success or a total failure with you. But there's something in the middle. The bell curve where the rest of us live. We don't win awards or have retrospectives of our work. We live in the average.

And that is okay. It's okay for most people. I grew up in a house with no books. We had a Bible, some roadmaps. That was it. That doesn't make us bad. Doesn't make us stupid. My parents are good people. Wait, Philip! Where is it? Where is it? What are you doing? I'm looking for my fucking Tootsie Roll. I'm in.

Lily? Lily? You sleep? Huh. Lily, where are you? Lily? Lily?

Lily, you in there? What the fuck is all this? You gonna lay into us for going into your room and messing with your stuff? Yeah, my mood filled the house. I got it. We'll clean it out.

I should go get ready. You gotta get it out. I sell whatever Smurf berries you have to, you gotta get the money out. That's tricky. It's not yours to keep. It belongs to the three of us. Dad entrusted it to me. And you are clearly not to be trusted. He knows better than anybody you have to pay to play at the big boys table. Please. I looked up your little enterprise. Dad knows the risks involved. He's a goddamn surgeon. And he understands it's worth the risk. You gotta hold your nerve.

If we don't develop this new currency now, the world isn't going to wait. China will do it first. Wow, you sound just like him. Tell me, how does it feel to be a clone? That's the biggest insult you can throw at me. The least medication, Kinneret. The injection. We're waiting on approval from the insurance company. You know how much it costs? Thousands of dollars a month. $30,000 a year. If that doesn't work, we move on to Ilaris. $200,000 a year. For life.

What happens if she can't afford the insurance when she's older? What if she can't pay for it? The drug patent will run out. Don't talk to me about patents. You want to know the ethics of having a sick child is that somebody has to pay for it. Are you going to pay for it, Uncle Anthony? Are you going to pay for my sick child?

I will sue your ass for preying on a frail, demented old man if you do not get his money back. You mean your money? There is sickness all over this house. Open your eyes. That money is not yours to turn into dust. Good to know. I'm going to go get ready. Tom. Do what you want, Dot. Just do what you want. Everything okay? Will you come?

Please, Nate, I can't be with my family for one more minute. Have you seen Lily? She's not in her room. I thought she was. She must be down here. I guess. Did you check the bathroom? Not yet. Lily? Lily! What's going on? Nothing. Something happened? We're looking for Lily. Where's she going? No idea. Is there somewhere she'd go? Manhattan on her own.

She's 12. Nate, call her cell. Yeah, okay. What's going on? We can't find Lily. Shoot. Tom, you check the house and back with Anthony. Check everywhere. If she has gone out, she won't have gone far. She's probably playing a prank. She doesn't play pranks. That's ringing. There's no answer. I'll go check the backyard. Lily? Lily? What are you saying? I can't. I can't hear you.

You're speaking too quietly, Richard. I know you think you're speaking at normal volume, but you're not. The microphone won't be able to pick up what you're saying. You have to be louder. Remember what Karen said? Think angry. Angry. Angry. These shoes pinch my fucking feet! Okay. Why don't you wear your loafers? Or sneakers? Mm-hmm.

It's your award party. You can wear what you want to. It's my party and I'll wear what I want to. I don't want to go to the awards. Of course you do. Really? I don't feel like it. The drugs will kick in soon. You'll feel like it. Please try. They want to take you away from me.

Do you see her? Who? She leaves the window. The girl. I don't see her. The door. It doesn't spite me. I see her. What do you want? Damn it, what do you want from me? Can I have some ice cream? You hear that? She wants ice cream. Tell her we have a whole cake in the freezer. She doesn't want cake.

She wants to go to Suduto's, where I used to take the boys, dancing along the sidewalk past penny-whistled toys, bear-blowing bubbles, and double scoop of vanilla Swiss almond and butter pecan. She wanted to go buy ice cream with me. I couldn't take her. I had to work. Ha ha!

I want to see my children. I want to see my kids. Hang up. Call the police. It's too early to call the police. Don't question me, Nate. Something is wrong. Shh. It's coming from the basement. Lily? Lily! Open this door. Door's locked. Give me some space. Lily? Lily?

Lily! Lily! Get an ambulance, Lily! Baby, talk to me. No signal. You find her? Down here. Please, please, please. We need an ambulance. Shit. What's happening? Lily? Lily? Hi, it's Uncle Tom. My daughter, she's 12. She's had a seizure. No, not epilepsy. Febrile.

I don't know. 14 West 83rd Street between Central Park West and Columbus. I'll have to get you some fresh air, right? Some oxygen. Let's go in. I'll go see what all the fuss is about. I got you. Careful, careful. Let's get you up the stairs. Is she conscious? She's going in and out. She's going in and out of consciousness. Are they coming? How long was she? I don't know. Lily, why did you lock the door? Is there anything I can do? You need to put her in the recovery position. Doing it.

Are you sure she didn't take the Ambien? It's all over the house. Air breathing. Circulation. Where are they? I get like this with Ambien. I don't sleep. I have anxiety. Check for a bluish hue. They're on their way. Lips. Fingertips. Whoa. Whoa. That's the fever. I'll get a pot. Keep the airway clear.

That's it. It's okay. Mom, I don't want to be sick anymore. I'm here. I don't want to be sick, Mom. I know. I know, honey. I know. Is she okay? I love you so much, Lily. You are everything. Can I do anything? Oh, no, no, no, no, no, Richard. What are you doing on the stairs? She's okay. She's okay. She's a strong woman.

Powerful young woman. You are... I'm here. I'm here. You're gonna be okay. You can be anything, you hear me? You're gonna be okay. Let me check her vitals. It's okay. I got this. Darod. Let him. I'm gonna check your pulse, young lady. Get through this. We're a unit. I see you. You're brilliant. That's why she's brilliant. You're right. Nobody gets it. Nobody gets it but us. It'll be fine.

It is what it is. You hear that? Boom, boom, boom. You know what a miracle is? An event so unlikely as to be almost impossible. The likelihood...

Of your mother meeting your father, their mothers meeting their fathers. Sure, the science helps the miracle along, but even if your parents met in a petri dish, you still have a one in 400 trillion chance of being born. You're a miracle.

That heartbeat is a miracle.

We try to control life, the uncertainty, the unpredictable, the spontaneous. Your Uncle Thomas used to line up everything. He didn't drive the matchbox cars around. He lined them up in beautiful patterns. Your Uncle Anthony, completely different. It was great.

Chaos! Car crash from start to finish! Dot, my first... Dad. I want to tell you that everything is going to be alright. All I can do is make you prepare for when it isn't. Make you resilient. Like the embryo that formed you. I made mistakes. Life itself is a mistake.

One evolutionary genetic mutation after another. You don't believe in miracles? I'm a Mets fan. There's always room for a miracle. Oh, God! Where's the ambulance? I'll go wait for it on the street. Is she going to be okay?

Are you timing this, Nate? 35. She's going to be okay, Richard. Do something. Somebody do something. Richard? 40. 45. No! No! This is L.A. TheatreWorks' production of The Fever Syndrome by Alexis Ziegerman, directed by Sarah Drew.

This play is part of L.A. TheatreWorks' Relativity Series of science-themed plays. Lead funding for the Relativity Series is provided by the Alfred P. Sloan Foundation, bridging science and the arts in the modern world. Starring in alphabetical order, Hugo Armstrong as Professor Richard Myers, Seamus Dever as Thomas Myers, Sarah Drew as the voice of Karen.

Thank you.

Senior producer, Annalise Erickson. Prepared for audio by Mark Holden. Recorded, designed, and mixed by Charles Carroll and edited by Neil Woganson for the Invisible Studios, West Hollywood. Piano music and musical characters adapted and performed by Rusty Tinder. Recorded by Charles Carroll and directed by Mark Holden.

Senior radio producer Ron Lipkin. Foley artist Stacy Martinez. You'll find The Fever Syndrome and hundreds of other titles on our website, latw.org. I'm Susan Loewenberg, producing director of LA TheatreWorks.