So both kids were out of school most of last week, sick. JP had some sort of stomach thing going on, Kay a virus exhibiting different symptoms. Kay was bad enough that we took her to see Doc Pace. Love that guy, btw. He checked her out, did a throat culture (which is where the worst of the symptoms where rearing their heads), gave her some antibiotics on the chance that it might be bacterial rather than viral. He was pretty sure it wasn’t strep or mono, at least.
She gets better by Friday and goes to school, James not so much.
He’s feeling better by Monday and goes to school, Kay finishes the course of antibiotics and begins to feel worse again.
Yesterday, I pick JP up from school, and he’s dragging ass getting to the car. He gets in and I say, “Yo, there are cars behind me with kids to pick up, what’s up with you?” He’s wincing in pain.
Now, he’s still wearing the boot from the ankle fracture he got at the end of football season so he’s not supposed to be on his skateboard or anything, but… yeah, like that would really stop him anyway. I figure he’s found a way to injure himself while on the field trip, undoubtedly doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing.
“My side hurts.”
“Right here.” He points.
“OK, we have to go to the hospital.” Kay’s home sick, I’m trying to get some writing done, I had not really anticipated appendicitis when I planned my day. I was in my PJs.
“It’s your appendix,” I told him, trying to keep him informed so he wouldn’t panic.
“Yeah, that’s what my teachers said.” He seemed a little worried about the surgery thing, but explaining it all seemed to give him some ease.
So here’s the whole story as he then related it:
Apparently, after having gone to bed the night before, he had a really bad pain there. He chalked it up to a cramp and went to sleep without mentioning it to anyone.
It wasn’t really hurting him yesterday morning when he got up, so he went on to school, again without mentioning it to anyone. While on the field trip, it began to hurt again. Again, he didn’t bother mentioning it to anyone. It was only after the teachers started noticing him holding his side and grimacing that they became aware of what was going on.
They gave him some good advice: “When you get home, tell your Dad you have appendicitis and need to go to the hospital.”
Were I not so tired, I’d probably go rip someone a new ass. Obviously basic biology isn’t much of an emphasis for obtaining a teaching certificate in North Carolina. I’m not surprised considering he just came home the other day with a permission slip for an abstinence-only sex “education” course.
(What do you get when you cross Abstinence-only Sex “education” with actual Education? Two hundred pregnant teenagers in one high school. Ask Diana.)
I should probably rant about how “God will take care of you until you get home” is not a useful attitude when a 13 year old kid is presenting with appendicitis symptoms. It also won’t prevent the appendix from bursting, which can seriously complicate the appendectomy and can be fatal.
I’ll spare you that, and I’ll spare you the rant on the sheer incompetence of any so-called “Intelligent Designer”. I’m good like that, plus I have a wonderful and beautiful pair of magnificent, intelligent, and capable sock-puppets who can do so rather eloquently and elegantly. (Girls, can you please stop calling me “The Meatsack” now? I don’t mind “The Boy” so much…)
But I got him to the hospital and the docs removed the appendix laparoscopically. It hadn’t burst and it went smoothly, according the surgeon. I got to chat for a while in the waiting room with his girlfriend’s mom, and she’s a very pleasant lady. Eventually she had to leave, but let Gina remain and Jane gave her a ride home after the surgery. That was a big comfort to him. Gina’s a real sweetheart.
Fortunately, they have unlimited text messaging on their cell phones. He wasted exactly zero seconds after being taken to the pediatrics ward.
He’s been in good spirits since the surgery, charming the staff on the ward, and Jane just now called me to tell me he’s eating and wants to get up and about this morning.
She also mentioned his Science teacher, Mrs. R., just called to check on him when she heard he had taken ill yesterday. I really like her. We chatted before the school year began, and she laid out the curriculum for me. She’s very personable, and had a great demeanor about her. Plus, she’s not ducking cellular evolution to avoid offending the wing nuts. Good for her. Good for the kids. Science rulz.
I’m beginning to view my life as a series of familial health-care crises, occasionally interrupted by brief moments of other minor distractions.