The day we didn't add to our family surgery total

L. woke up with significant pain in her lower right abdomen. Now, I don't know about you, but this is one of those things which causes parent alarm bells to go off. I'm pretty low key about most medical things these days, often taking the wait and see approach. Pain in the lower right abdomen that caused a child to squeak a bit when I push on it? Not good. Since W. had an emergency appendectomy a while back, it makes me even more jumpy.

It makes me so jumpy that I actually called our doctor's office to see if they would rather us come there first. I try not to ever call the office because the process is so horrendous, instead taking care of everything I need to do when I'm physically in the office. This particular phone call was actually quick and painless with the nurse returning my call within a half an hour. We went through all the triage questions and she confirmed my initial gut instinct that this required a trip to the ER. 

I have actually lost count of the number of ER visits we have had over our parenting career, and unlike number of surgeries, which I could probably figure out if I really sat down and tried, I'm pretty sure there is no way to figure out the number. J. was working from home, so he took L. and I stayed home to take care of children and animals and to act as chauffeur, which is what Fridays tend to consist of. I was also mentally rearranging life over the next week or so because I was completely convinced the appendix would have to go and I was just waiting for J. to text that the hospital agreed. 

Except they didn't. None of the tests showed any infection and the appendix looked absolutely normal in the ultrasound. They did see something benign that could explain the pain (yes, I'm being vague on purpose), gave L. some pain reliever, and she and J. made it home before dinner. It was about a six hour ER visit which is what I have come to expect if the child in question isn't admitted. 

L. found the whole thing rather tedious and boring and came home exceedingly hungry. J., did not the first time, wished desperately there was a way to purchase coffee in the ER waiting room. I have found begging a nurse in the ER for a cup of coffee to be very effective. Or it could be that just supplying the vaguely unhinged mother with coffee was the easiest way to manage the situation. 

So all is well. There is no surgery happening this evening, and life can continue on as normal. (Though the fact that I have lost track of ER visits might suggest that our normal does actually involve going to the hospital.)