That is a sentence I never thought I'd say.
We're a healthy bunch, and avoid anything that sounds like medical intervention. We don't even go to the doctor for "well checks."
But two weeks ago, after three days of stomach pain, vomiting, diarrhea and loss of appetite... I took my thirteen year old to the pediatrician for help.
Two hours later we were back home with the diagnosis of a really bad case of gastro-enteritis and a prescription to stop the vomiting- which finally worked 12 hours later.
Here's the thing. There are times in our lives that we have to trust our instincts more than the professionals. There are times when we have asked ourselves: How will I know?
When I go into labor for the first baby, how will I know it's real and not just a false alarm?
When I fall for that special someone, how will I know it's love?
Thank God, I have a handful of wise people to talk to, and in the end, a brief discussion with the kid left no doubt that we were packing her up and heading to the ER at midnight.
Nine hours later, she was in surgery with one of the worst cases of appendicitis the surgeon had ever seen.
Six days later, we left the hospital, promising her she'd never have to see that pediatrician again.