“How about I sign it?” I offered.
That seemed to cheer him up. He plunked the thing up on the counter and watched as I wrote a message of support. “1 week to go,” I penned, signing my name.
“One week?” he asked.
“That’s right. I’m sure it’ll be ready to come off in one week.”
“Okay,” he agreed.
“Thank you,” Mom said, gathering up her things.
I left the exam room and went back to my office. Checking my cell phone, I found I had a call from Bre. I could take a few minutes for a personal call, so I closed the door and dialed her back. She picked up on the second ring, obviously relieved to hear my voice.
“Dex, thank you so much for calling me back,” she enthused.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“I’m not feeling well,” she complained. “It’s my stomach and my lower back. And I’ve got a headache. It’s not bad, but it just won’t go away.”
“Tell me more about your stomach,” I instructed.
“I threw up,” she admitted.
“When?”
“Just this morning.”
“And how did you feel after?”
“I felt okay. But I’m having trouble keeping anything down.”
“Are you staying hydrated? Are you able to drink water or Gatorade?”
“I don’t have any Gatorade,” she said. “But I can drink water.”
“And you’re not throwing that up?” I asked.
“No.”
“The biggest danger with throwing up is getting dehydrated.” I gave her my canned speech. “If you notice that you’re no longer able to keep down fluids, then definitely go to the emergency room.”
She sighed. “I’ve had enough of the emergency room for one lifetime.”
“How is Seanan?” I asked.
“She’s doing fine. I think I might have overreacted that day. She bounced right back, and I really had to fight with her to get her to take it easy. She was climbing the walls because I wouldn’t let her watch television or play on her iPad. But she’s all better now.”
“That’s great!” I said.
“She had a headache for maybe two days, and the goose egg cleared up in less than a week.”
“Doctors have a lot of schooling, but we don’t have your experience with your own children.” I knew for a fact that mothers were often the best judge of what was wrong with their babies. And while Bre wasn’t a mother, she spent more time with Seanan than anyone else on the planet. I trusted her assessment when she said the little girl was fine.
“This stomach flu, or whatever it is,” Bre continued, getting back on topic, “it’s recurring. I’ve thrown up every morning for the past three days.”
“Well, I’d be happy to see you,” I said. “Can you come to my office?”
“I can’t. Flynn’s out of town today, and I don’t want to drag Seanan into the city.”