What happens when you have an overly dramatic daughter.

So, we made a trip to the ER last night.

Yeah. Fun, huh? Don't worry - it ended up being nothing. But since we're all sitting here in our pajamas and I have zero desire to get up and do much of anything today, I figure I might as well write it down.

Sadie's been showing signs of getting sick for a few days now. In fact, we canceled one of her birthday parties because she had a pretty high fever and was down-in-the-dumps all day Thursday. But she was perfectly fine Friday and even most of Saturday, so I didn't think anything of it. By last night, though, it was pretty obvious it was more than just an effect of all the birthday junk food she ate. She was going to the bathroom constantly, she didn't eat dinner, and she eventually threw up about an hour after going to bed.

Sounds like a normal stomach bug, right? Well, the weird thing was that on top of all that, her little tummy was majorly swollen. Distended is the technical term. She looked like she could be Ellie's pot belly twin. It was definitely not normal.

And this is where the dramatic part comes in.

Every. single. time. I would poke or touch her stomach she'd cry that it hurt. She complained of tummy aches multiple times last night. So I called the on-call nurse, described Sadie's symptoms, and the nurse said she suspected appendicitis. Mostly because of that stomach pain.

So off to the ER I went while Kevin stayed home with Ellie. I was terrified. I just kept thinking, "Appendicitis means surgery. She's going to have to have surgery." It was awful.

But when the doctor walked into our room in the ER, the first thing he did was start pushing on her stomach. And do you know what she did? Nothing. Didn't even flinch. He asked her if her tummy was hurting and she immediately shook her head "no." My jaw dropped. "NO?!" Your stomach pain just magically disappears when this big, intimidating doctor is the one poking and prodding you?

Grrrr.

Naturally, the doctor and nurses all thought I was crazy. One of those overreacting, worrisome moms, you know? At one point, I apologized for the false alarm and he patted my arm and said, "It's okay. As long as we made you feel better." Umm...gee, thanks? Yeah. That's exactly why I brought my 4-year old to the ER. So I could feel better.

So, you know how moms of toddlers (myself included) always lament that it's so much easier to have a sick kid when they can actually tell you what's wrong? Yeah, not so much. Because then they can be overly dramatic and complain about symptoms that are not actually there (or not as bad as the crying and carrying on suggested, anyways).

The diagnosis in the end was simply that she has a stomach bug. The swollen stomach was probably just some gas and bloating. They also said she was the happiest patient they'd had in there for awhile since she basically chatted their ear off the entire time.

Sigh. WHAT am I going to do with that girl?

(And I don't even have a single picture to add to this long post. I took a couple of her in the hospital on my phone, but apparently I can't get the pictures off my phone to the computer.)