“I want my daddy.”
Those were my daughter Cameron’s words yesterday. We’d gone to the hospital to have an ultrasound done. Her stomach had been aching since Sunday, and her doctor ordered one to see what might be wrong. After the radiologist studied the screen, he showed me what he saw—a swollen appendix with a stone inside.
“You must have a high tolerance for pain,” he told her. “This should be excruciating.”
He quickly left the room with an assistant. Cameron and I thought we’d be heading home, waiting for word from her doctor as to what would happen next. When the radiologist returned, he said we were heading straight for the emergency side of the hospital. He’d spoken with Cameron’s doctor, and Cameron needed to be prepped for surgery. Now.