...Yes, the story ends well. And I thought I'd give all of the details at once so that nobody has any reason to be worried...
On Sunday night, Justin woke up at midnight screaming in pain and saying that his stomach hurt. We got him out of bed and tried to understand what was going on. He just kept saying "my stomach hurts!!!" We moved him to the bathroom where he sat on the toilet rocking back and forth and holding his lower stomach. He would say things like "It feels better if I curl into a ball" and "Mom...it hurts all over..."
After about 10 minutes when he said he was sure he didn't need to go, we snuggled him up and put him in our bed. He was there for about 2 minutes when he started to throw up this black tar kind of throw up. I rushed him to our bathroom where we discovered he didn't need to throw up anymore. He lay down on the carpet and told me he couldn't take a deep breath because it hurt so bad. I looked up at John and told him to call 911. He called, they sent an ambulance, and as soon as they got here, Justin started to get his color back. (There's something about three large men in uniforms with a ton of equipment squished into your Mom and Dad's bathroom that seems to take your mind off the problem!). They checked him and said that it didn't seem like he had any signs of trouble with his appendix but asked if we wanted him to go to the hospital anyway. I said that I felt very uncomfortable with the pain he was in. So, into the ambulance he goes...
I, as any reasonable person in New England at midnight might do, dressed myself in capris and a sweatshirt. I got in the car to follow the ambulance and I could not stop shivering! I couldn't tell if it was adrenaline, worry, or the chills. I think it was a combination of all three. I followed the ambulance to St. Anne's (I knew the routine after taking John there for slicing his finger off!!!) and parked. When they took me to Justin, he was lying in a bed and he seemed fine. Well, that figures!
The doctor came to see him and said that it was likely a virus and that he had seen similar symptoms recently. They gave Justin an apple juice and he rested in the bed for a while. At about 2:00am they released us. On our way out, we stopped at the check-out desk, and this is when it finally all came out. Justin threw up. This was not a dainty little bout of throw up, but rather a firehose style explosion of everything in his entire body! It went all over the counter, the papers, the firemen sitting at the table next to the desk, the floor, me, Justin, the wall...you get the picture. The nurses swarmed, comforted him, got him back in bed, and took care of the mess. I was kind of thankful that it happened because 1) he felt so much better , 2) I looked a little more legit for bringing him in, and 3) the nurses cleaned it up!
Eventually they armed us with a prescription for nausea medicine and sent us home. Justin felt fine the next day - thankfully. It has been an interesting experience as John and I look back wondering if we overreacted. My conclusion is that with all of the fears we have today about sick children, we made the right choice. I'm so thankful that we have a system that we can call for help when we need it and especially that we have the ability to ask whatever questions we need to.
It was the Portsmouth Volunteer Fire Department that arrived up to help us this week. There have been may occasions where the fire department has been a great blessing to our family in the past. We have survived two seasons of San Diego Wildfires due to the hard work of our firefighting community and they have come to the rescue on two different occasions when our children needed emergency help. If you ever have a few dollars rolling around in your pocket that can go to a worthy cause - please consider your local fire department. They're lifesavers!
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P.S. Since it's hard to see, the picture is of the ambulance and the flashing lights outside our house as I (in my capris) ran outside to follow in the Suburban. Justin was already in the ambulance when the picture was taken.