Several x-rays and ultrasounds, and a transfer by ambulance to a facility with pediatric ORs later, we don't know what's wrong, although we've ruled out a ton of stuff. Middly is vomiting and in severe pain WITH IV morphine and Zofran, and as you can't have those at home, they've admitted him for observation and pain management.
Since Hotter isn't up to watching the other two MFA Children (although he seems to be on the mend), the XY took them back to his place and I'm writing this from a pull-out recliner by Middly's hospital bed.
I already missed more work last week being sick myself (a stomach bug passed through Casa MFA and felled us all one by one, although Middly was the vector and had fully recovered by Thursday when I dropped) than we can afford, so let's hope the ER doc who said this "looks surgical" was wrong, mmmkay?
On a personal note, this is the same hospital where Little Child and I lived for several chunks of his infancy, and I was fine until a nurse brought me some baby wipes to clean Middly up after a puke. Then I smelled the godawful cloying hospital-wipes perfume and came down with a serious case of tsuris. I hate this place, and while I have a "Calm" herbal teabag and am about to venture out to the "nourishment room" for hot water, I'd kind of rather run screaming to the nearest liquor store, or maybe take the elevator up to the psych ward and holler for some haldol.
Sent from The Precious