Scared me half to death...

A teenage girl, that is. No, not the inside one, one of my daughters. We had to rush her to the hospital Saturday. She didn't feel like eating or drinking all day and complained of abdominal pain. She told me she had started her period, so I gave her some Ibuprofen. She threw it up and couldn't hold down water. I was worried that it might be something besides a bad period, and I couldn't just let her dehydrate in any case, so off she went. Thankfully, it WAS just a bad period. She had intravenous fluids and several tests at the hospital to rule out more serious conditions, and she is healthy. She was back to her normal self almost immediately after the fluids. She still has some cramping, but is able to take Tylenol and eat and drink normally. She's even going to the stadium Sunday to see the Rays play ball. The doctor said she is perfectly fine to go. I am very relieved, but it took everything I had not to wander off into the land of the major panic attack while all this was happening. And it reminded me how scared I am inside. While I'm very grateful that we are fortunate enough to have good insurance and have a good hospital nearby, waiting for the results of medical tests to learn the fate of your own child is a very terrible feeling. Yes, I was scared, and I AM scared. I have four children. There are four people running around in the world that I just can't live without. Four people whose fates are more important to me than my own. And I don't get to control everything that happens to them. Knowing that is almost more than I can stand. It's not the kind of knowledge that I can tolerate very well. It's scary. It's very, very scary.