Yes, I had to take J to the emergency room last night. He and T were wrestling outside (and inside, but I kicked them out to do that) for a while. J had a sore back from Saturday (some scary story about clinging to a cliff in the ravine or something. I couldn't completely hear what he said as my parental brain liquefied at the thought of my son doing something dangerous) and the wrestling aggravated it. Duh.
About an hour later J was complaining the pain had moved from his back to his lower belly on the left. I gave him Tylenol, told him to lie down and I went to bed. He got me up again saying the pain was too much. He couldn't stand up straight and had fallen over twice in the ten feet from his bedroom to mine. So off we went to the emergency room. I let S sleep because there was no point in dragging him through it. I didn't think we'd be all that long (I thought J had been nutted by T or something) and S doesn't have any parental authority for the doctors.
After only an hour in the emergency room, we were sent to pediatric emergency. About twenty feet down the hall he couldn't walk any more so I told him to just sit down in the hall with his chart while I searched out a wheelchair. More accurately, I went to the security guard in the ER and had him fetch it for me. He was just sitting at his desk eating Doritos anyway. So I caught up with J and wheeled him into pediatrics where they took his weight and gave him a bed to lie in until someone could see him. It wasn't too long before a nurse came in and got his vitals, then the resident came in and did his exam. The hospital here that does children's surgeries is also a teaching hospital. Lots of residents and interns and training nurses. So the resident did his thing, then the doctor came in and did it all again, gently pointing out where the resident missed something (like don't suggest a catheter for a urine sample unless absolutely necessary) and how to eliminate things that are super-urgent. Like the genitals. Luckily, J's didn't hurt at all, no pain radiating to there or from there. But he had to examine J's works anyway. J said after, with a straight face, "I've been felt up.....by a doctor". I told him he could brag about it at school, just leave out the male doctor part. He still looked insulted...and a tiny bit amused.
The doctor seemed to have no clear idea of why J's side would hurt in such a specific area so he ordered a urine sample to see if there was blood in it. There wasn't. But he said J would have to stay overnight and they'd repeat the test in the morning. Technically, at the end of the shift, as it was already two in the morning. That's when I decided that going to work wasn't going to happen today so I called the baker to let him know. I don't like taking sick days just because I'll go in the next day to find everything in the wrong spot and things not ready to go as no one sets it up like I do. I know, petty, but my little bit of OCD kicks in at the thought of someone else doing my job.
The second urine sample was clear but J was still in pain so an ultrasound was done. J told me later that the elevator ride in the hospital bed to get to the ultrasound is what made him feel better. By the end of the ultrasound he was moving with way more ease. He let off some gas, felt the pain briefly, then seemed fine. Absolutely fine. Bouncing-off-the-walls fine. We got back to the pediatric emergency and waited for the ultrasound results. In the meantime he arm wrestled me, made a video on my cell phone, created and changed my ringtune and phone wallpaper. And talked nonstop. So whatever was causing the pain was obviously gone.
I found a nurse and asked if we could go as J was doing well, with J standing behind me acting in his usual goofy good spirits. They said the doctor had to look at the results first and get back to us. But the ultrasound tech hadn't put up the results on the computer yet, so the doctor gave J a physical exam. The only discomfort J felt was the kind where there is some guy shoving your insides around. No pain at all. The doctor also commented on J's amazing abs. Abs I only dream of having. Abs of steel and youth. Abs as pictured to the left. He eventually let us go and told us he'd call if the ultrasound showed anything to worry about. No phone call yet so I assume things are fine. Or the results are still not posted on the computer, but I like the former better.
I still don't know what caused the pain. In my non-medical parent-informed opinion, T somehow bashed J's bladder or intestine during the wrestling so hard it froze or spasmed or cramped. After a while it relaxed and all was good. You'd think this would have slowed J down a bit as hospitals are uncomfortable places that don't allow him to eat (possibility of surgery makes them wary of giving J food, same with the appendix in Jan). But oh nay nay, he's still talking about wrestling T in the dark in the back yard, and about bike tricks in the ravine. Ouch! I think I just grew more grey hairs.....