If you follow me on twitter, you may already be aware that Daughter #2 came down with what we believed to be a bad stomach virus last Friday. My Harley Stud and I felt so bad for her to be 300 miles from home in a cracker box of a dorm (excuse me, "residence hall") feeling like crap and no one to take care of her. Well, no parental unit, that is. Her friends were all out of town for the weekend. Noleboy did a fabulous job of attending to her every need but somehow it's just not the same as having your mommy and daddy there to baby you. We did the best we could over the phone. By Saturday morning, she was feeling a bit better but went to a walk-in clinic to have things checked out and to get an excuse note since she missed a test on Friday. She was informed that she had a stomach virus, instructed to drink lots of fluids and it would just have to run its course.
Sunday evening, I was notified that I was called to report to jury duty the following day. I received a call a little later from D2 saying that she had thrown up again (sorry for the TMI) and her back was hurting. Being the sympathetic, loving mother that I am, I reprimanded her for taking medication on an empty stomach and said she should know better. I more or less blew off the back pain thinking that she was probably a bit stiff and sore from lying in bed for 3 days.
In my defense, before someone calls DCF, D2 is a bit of a whiner. Always has been. She makes sure that her dad and I know about every little ache and pain she experiences. It's a little like the Boy Who Cried Wolf. I tend to take her complaints with a grain of salt. I generally wait until she has complained a few times before I feel that maybe some intervention is indicated. You see many times, she will complain about an ailment and then call a couple hours later saying she is going out with friends.
Feeling that her last vomit episode (forgive me, TMI, again) was due to taking meds on an empty stomach and her back pain was from lying in bed for days, I was a little surprised to hear that she was returning to the walk-in clinic on Monday morning.
I reported for jury duty at the US District courthouse 8am on Monday morning. I was eventually selected to sit on the jury of a criminal case. My experience as jury #12 will be another post. Stay tuned for that because I will need your input on the many questions I have rattling around in my brain.
Just as I was turning off my phone to go into the courtroom, I received a message from D2 that she was returning to the clinic. I explained that my phone would be off, her dad would be available and to please leave me a message after she was seen by the doctor.
We went through the very long and tedious voir dire process and the judge asked one last question before the attorneys were brought to the bar to make their selections or actually make their strikes. The judge asked if there was anything going on in any of our lives that hadn't been covered in voir dire. He asked if there was anything that might distract us from giving the case our full attention. I know that I had just been informed that my daughter was returning to the clinic but at this point, I still thought she was suffering from a stomach virus and would be fine with some rest and lots of fluids.
I was selected to sit on the jury and the trial began immediately. Who knew they would want a Smart Mouth Broad? We broke for lunch about 90 minutes later. I immediately checked for messages and was shocked to read a text from D2 saying they were sending her for a CT. I called her immediately and she said she didn't' know why they were sending her for a CT but they did some bloodwork and then sent her to the hospital for the CT.
I work in the medical field and I tried really hard to keep telling myself that the test was just a pre-caution and I shouldn't worry until I knew I had something about which to worry. Easier said than done. I had a hard time finishing my lunch but knew I had to eat something because my stomach had been growling so loudly in court I was afraid that it was going to disrupt the trial. I ate as much as I could and tossed the rest. I was anxious to make some phone calls. Time moved too quickly and it was soon time to return to the jury room.
Our jury consisted of 13 people. 12 jurors and one alternate. After listening all morning in court, one gentleman sent a message to the judge that he wasn't sure his understanding of the English language was sufficient to comprehend the facts of the case. After a private interview with the judge, he was excused. Without an alternate, I felt it was only right to inform the clerk that while I still didn't have any details, my daughter was 300 miles away undergoing a CAT scan at that very moment and I didn't know what I would need to do once we had the results. She smiled, nodded and tried to hide the "what now?" look on her face. We were led back into the court room.
The message during the break was D2 had thrown up the prep drink that she was given. She was having a hard time getting the second bottle down since the first was so enjoyable. And back into the court room we went.
I did my best to focus on the case being presented but I was getting very nervous trying to determine why a CT was ordered. What was going on? We were excused for the day a little before 5pm and instructed to return at 8:30 the following morning.
My first call was to Daughter #2 who gave me the newest development. She had an allergic reaction to the IV contrast. The poor girl. All day, I had been pleading with her to call NoleBoy or someone to sit with her so she wouldn't be alone. I couldn't imagine having to go through all this by herself. She was quite a trooper. She did eventually call NoleBoy to join her. (I should explain to newer readers that NoleBoy is her boyfriend) I was relieved that at least she wasn't alone now. While waiting for her CT, the clinic called and asked her to return after the CT because they needed to do more bloodwork. Now I was really getting worried.
I don't really know how I got from the courthouse to home. My entire drive was spent on the phone with my employer, a physician (What? You don't call a breast surgeon for this type of thing?), MHS, D2, and a friend, begging for prayers. My doctor spoke with her doctor and we were informed that she has a kidney infection. Antibiotics and painkillers were prescribed. She was released to go back to her dorm. I couldn't bear the idea of her recuperating alone in her dorm. Her bed is the top bunk with a bookcase for a ladder!
Arrangements were made for NoleBoy to meet my father half way and Daddy would take her back to his house. I was told she would most likely feel much better by morning so MHS and I decided to wait until morning to decide if we would go up or if we would leave her in Daddy and Daisy's loving care and I would complete my civic duty as the case was supposed to finish the next day.
I received a message at 4:30 the next morning that she was in more pain than she had ever experienced in her life. I could hear her crying in the background. My heart broke right that minute into a million pieces. Why didn't I leave the night before? I realize that my presence would not have prevented or eased the pain but at least I would have been there. I quickly got our things together and we set off for Daddy's house.
I called the clerk of the court and informed her that I would not be able to be there for the rest of the trial. I was later notified that both sides agreed to continue with the eleven remaining jurors. It seems that they didn't need a Smart Mouth Broad after all.
My boss called me a few hours later and I explained what had happened and that we were on our way to be with D2. She advised that we see an urologist as soon as possible since the pain was getting worse. About an hour later, I received a call from the doctor at the walk-in clinic. She had received the CT report. She explained that the dictated report indicated something that the verbal report she had received the previous day did not. Something much more serious couldn't be ruled out and she should see an urologist asap. I told the doctor that we were on our way to see D2 and were in the process of making an appointment with the urologist for later that day. Emails were flying, faxes were faxed, phone calls were made and prayers went up during the entire four hour drive to Daddy's house.
By the time we got there D2 was feeling better thanks to narcotic painkillers and another dose of antibiotics working their way into her system. We saw the urologist later that day. He confirmed that the problem is most likely a bad kidney infection but would not completely rule out a more serious condition. He prescribed additional days of antibiotics and a repeat CT in two weeks to be sure that infection is the only problem.
We left her with Daddy and Daisy this morning. She will continue to recuperate there and most likely return to school tomorrow or Saturday. She isn't 100% yet but she's getting there. Do you think it would be a bad thing if I made her move home, kept her in a box and only let her out to go to community college down the road? If you have grown children, how are you coping with letting go?
I would like to thank my twitter friends and other blogging buds for their prayers and well wishes for D2. They were much appreciated.