In which Middlest and I have adventures.

Middlest has been feeling crummy all week. But not wanting another ER trip that would mean my losing a day of work the following day, my stubborn, wonderful kid minimized the pain until yesterday morning. I went to work knowing that there was a likelihood of an ER trip after work if things didn't magically get better, and I was able to put in a mostly-productive day at the office.

When we went to this ER in April, the doctors were concerned about the presence of air in the abdomen. The hospitalist wanted the surgeon to zip Middlest open. The surgeon said that since there were no visible perforations in the bowel, he advised against it, but if the symptoms got worse, to please come back.

So I came home, wolfed down some leftovers, packed snacks and water bottles into my knitting bag, and off we went.

Since chest pain was part of the constellation of the current symptoms, they checked that first. Heart is blessedly normal. Blood work came back normal as well, so no sign of infection in the body. Also reassuring. This is my kid sporting a Jolly Green Giant condom emesis bag as chapeau, to make me laugh.

They admitted Middlest for observation overnight. I left the hospital about 1:00 this morning, came home and picked up a few things for Middlest, delivered them back at the room, and came home to crash, finally falling asleep about 3:30 and waking five hours later feeling more than marginally human. I went back to the hospital around 10:30 and spent the next several hours waiting with Middlest and updating family as we got more information.

This next picture is from around noon: a portable X-ray machine that to my mind resembles a smiling Transformer. Definitely one of the good guys, because it gave the surgeon news she could use.

While we were waiting for the surgeon (a different one from last time), we amused ourselves with bad jokes and visual puns. My kid on morphine is a hoot, absolutely unfiltered and even more diligent to be kind.

One of the items I took back at ridiculous o'clock this morning was Cloudshine, a gift to Middlest our first Christmas in Fredericksburg. Each of the kids got one of these.

Cloudshine got his name because when he was new, his grey fur glowed like the edge of a raincloud lit from behind. Here he performs downward facing dog.

Because there was a more than slight chance that Middlest would be having exploratory surgery, food and drink were verboten. Which led to this exchange shortly after I got to the hospital this morning:

M: "I was hoping and praying for a break from all the N@zi posts, and now everybody's posting about food. Can I just have the N@zi posts back for a minute?"

You will be amused top know that when I tried to swype "N@zi" on my phone, it offered me "Sashimi" instead. I shared this with Middlest. "Now it's offering fish. I don't even like fish!"

In knitting news, I dropped a stitch on the navy edition of Justice's vest, and despite two crochet hooks and an assortment of needles only managed to make things worse. I did get brave, just before bedtime on Thursday, and compare the new piece to the completed half. They were compatible in size, but the hand of the navy piece was less substantial, almost sleazy. (The yarn itself is most definitely not sleazy, just the fabric I was producing.) So I frogged the navy, picked up the half(ish) ball of green, and cast on the second vest back. As we knitters say, I am now playing yarn chicken. If there is not enough to finish the second half all the way through to the I-cord edging and ties, I have an idea that may work.

Meds are kicking in, and I have church tomorrow morning (after which I will probably head straight to the hospital if I don't also go beforehand).