There was one woman in the waiting room; this was the second hospital she'd taken her husband to (they'd been sent over from Nashoba). So we went straight in, each of us with bands and they stuck is in room 14. Which looked very, very familiar but probably wasn't _actually_ the same room I occupied a half dozen years ago. Different doctor, but mostly the same drill. They stuck an IV port in her right away (I cannot get over how seriously every hospital I ever walk into takes me. It is just bizarre, compared to everyone else's description of their experience), and blood came back with elevated white blood cells so there was no way they were turning us loose any time soon. As small and difficult to manage those emergency department beds are under the best of circumstances, they are even trickier when a plus size middle aged woman and a 9x% almost 8 year old girl are attempting to share it. Oh well; it was better than putting my head down on the tray while sitting in the armchair.
Down to x-ray -- didn't learn anything there. Down to radiology, then off to the potty, where I collected the urine sample they wanted and answered two long standing questions I had about my daughter. When she eliminates, how thorough is she? Answer: very thorough. Couldn't find the appendix on the ultrasound -- things were feeling real familiar now. Again, no secondary sign either (fluid in the general area, etc.). This is the one and only downside of coming in early on in the appendicitis process with a retrocecal appendix.
Next stop: CAT scan. The CAT scan did identify the appendix, it was retrocecal and it was inflamed. I was offered a choice of three possible hospitals for the surgery: Tufts, Children's or MassGen. Ugh. They were willing to let me drive A. or transport her in an ambulance with me in the back. I was marginally happier with the second choice. I didn't want to drive into Boston and I _really_ didn't want to do it on the two plus hours sleep I'd had that night.
Good news tho! Surgeon at Emerson was game to operate on a kid A.'s size (basically, that 9x% percentile is Big Enough to be out of the weird, scary, unpredictable anatomical arrangement that small children often have). No transport needed. By this time, T. was off to school and R. had driven down to the hospital. I went home to get a couple hours sleep, some breakfast and tea and change clothes. I returned around noon to watch A. sleep in post-op. Surgeon sez: appendix removed, it was inflamed but not perforated. Yay! This is _why_ I go in early on this kind of stuff. After I had my appendix out, I realized that I'd stopped having periodic Worst Gas Ever events, which leads me to suspect that I'd actually had earlier flare-ups. Also, _why_ I took this seriously and went in early, when I could have written it off as Just Gas.
I'd had breakfast at home, but not really lunch (some cole slaw, because, cole slaw). We were in post-op for a while. When she finally came up, she was hurting once she was alert, so she went back down with something or other in her IV and that, as near as I can tell, was the last pain meds she needed from the whole event. She slept on and off until dinner. I called early to find out about a parent tray to see if they could accommodate my food allergies (they could -- I had a burger, fries and a side salad, with chips that I handed to her while she was waiting for her tray to arrive). I figured if they couldn't, I'd had R. bring something over. When she woke up and ate some chips, we discussed her food options. I ordered her a grilled cheese (which she balked at when it actually arrived, probably because of the cheese in it) with chips (that I think R. probably ate later on), chocolate cake, vanilla ice cream, a bowl of strawberries and chocolate milk. She ate almost everything other than the sandwich. We walked to and from the nurse's station (I pushed her pole, since she was still hooked up at this point). She watched a bunch of PowerPuff Girls (original series episodes). They did eventually unhook her from the IV, after she had eaten and peed in the hat and gone for the walk.
B., T.'s sitter, dropped T. off at the hospital. R. came by after his bike ride and some food. I took T. home, because he was still sad about me being MIA earlier in the day. I did his night time routine, collected some night time clothes and a few other odds and ends (but I forgot a brush for A.'s hair). When A. fell asleep, R. came home and I headed back in to spend the night in A.'s room (it had two beds, but was treated as private, so I got the other bed -- didn't even have to sleep in one of those chairs that fold into a bed, and I didn't have to be in a room with a random stranger).
I couldn't help but think that, while I probably wasn't going to be paying for it (insurance will), this was one of my more expensive overnight stays.