What do you do when a doctor calls you at 11:00 a.m. from hundreds of miles away to say that your 19 year-old daughter needs to be hospitalized because her pneumonia is not responding to oral antibiotics and her blood oxygen levels are low, her white blood counts high, and her pulse too fast? You gnash your teeth for not being there to hold her hand, and then you begin to make plans. By 5 p.m., you are at the airport, having booked a flight to Minneapolis, arranged to have someone take care of the dog, someone else to take care of the cats, and a third set of very kind someones to take care of your son. You cancel and reschedule appointments, you bring your work and hope that you can actually get something done.
She's fine.
She's responding to the antibiotics and improving; the doctor said she could probably go home tomorrow afternoon. I'm glad I came. News flash: you never stop worrying about your kids.
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