When Mitchell was complaining of pain in the center of his chest after swallowing food earlier in the week, I assumed he has some reflux issues. We are Jewish- digestive problems are common and are usually food related. I told him to lay off the spicy crap and drink more water- sure, I could have made him some chicken soup but I didn't. His trouble did not get any better so I took him to our Pediatrician extraordinaire on Friday. She knows if we are in her office it is for real.
She suggested an Upper GI test and we were fortunate enough to be scheduled for Monday afternoon. This test was ordered to rule out a hiatal hernia, and esophagus damage. Since his pain was associated with eating and drinking we had to believe that there was an underlying cause. She had a hunch that his antibiotic (a doxy drug) may have caused some irritation, especially if it did not dissolve in his stomach and instead was jammed and dissolving in his esophagus regions. Made sense to me.
On Saturday Mitchell's pain went from mild to major and then he started to have constant pain even when he was just sitting and watching the NCAA games. Drinking and eating were impossible and when he took me aside and asked to go to the ER I knew it must have been B-A-D!
We spent 5.5 hours in the ER at Childrens' Hospital. He got the Upper GI ahead of schedule and as we passed the time in the triage room we watched the teeny weeny little television that had a horrible picture and even worse sound. We anxiously watched some of the Basketball games thinking the doctor would pop in at any moment. Tick Tock, Tick Tock as we saw Villanova advance in the Tourney, then we were flipping betweenTBS' My Big Fat Greek Wedding (edited and with commercials) and the Nickelodeon Slime Awards. At one point I wanted to open a vein and just bleed out- after all I was already in the hospital. We sat,we sat, and we sat some more. I even resorted to doing the kid puzzles that were in our exam room. This is the hidden treasure poster that contained the most random trinketsand of course I had to finish finding all the blasted crap, like a spoon, a straw hat and a thimble. TORTURE folks- it was pure and unaltered torture. Tick Tock, Tick Tock.
As it turned out there was not really a definitive diagnosis for Mitchell based on this visit. The Upper GI did not conclusively find a problem. He did not have a blockage, no signs of swallowing roofing nails, no mass of undigested Chipotle stuck in his pipes and from all guesses it was normal looking inside his gut. We were given a few scripts to help with the pain and to coat his tract- and he is on a liquid diet until our GI consult next week.
Ahhh Parenthood- in addition to the glamorous moments of cleaning up poop, pee and puke, sitting in an ER ranks right up there. We hit the 24 hour CVS pharmacy after 11:00 p.m. on the way home which is like shopping in Las Vegas after dark in a seedy alley- you would not want to go alone. I grabbed his meds, hustled home and I logged onto the computer and called it a night. Trust me, spending a Saturday Night (or any night for that matter) in the Emergency Room is not blog worthy. I am just documenting this so that you realize my tales and tribulations are not always rock star quality. This was not dinner at Le Cirque, Backstage passes at a Broadway show, or riding in first class on the flight to a tropical destination- it was parenting 101. Maybe if George Clooney had been working our ER tonight I may have chosen a better blog entry title. Waaaah.
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