First Trip to the ER

It happened in a flash: everything fine, and then, "Mama, my belly hurts." Within moments, she was shrieking and writhing in pain. Trying to throw up, doubled over. Obviously more than tea and soft words could handle. Mama raced through the house, turning off the kettle and checking for the insurance card, poor hurting child hugged tight. Dada screeched up just in time, and we were off to the ER. Words like "telescoped bowel" were uttered, then "appendicitis." Mini catheter, blood work, xray ... mama got fierce about the catheter, surely there's another option and isn't that a little aggressive? And then, reprieve. Just as we left triage, she calmed down. Little head nestled against mama, cool and sweaty. She perked up in time for the nurse, was chatty in time for the doctor. Two and a half hours of observation, attempts at collecting a urine sample, and lots of graham crackers later, she was jumping on the bed and asking to spend the night. "Probable gas pains" the final diagnosis, and she was sent off with sheets of stickers from the smitten nurses.