One of the worst feelings is to have a child far away and not be able to help. (Probably the child feels worse about that.) Last night Katie called to tell us that Kendra was in the emergency room, very ill, with constant vomiting + diarrhea after 3 hours, lots of pain. She came home during the night, then went back to the ER this morning because she blacked out and conked her head and hurt her arm.
I just wanted to get in the car and drive from Oregon to Utah, to try to help out.
But instead, of course, I went to work and waited for a phone call with some kind of news. I finally heard that Kendra is doing better. She was passing out because she was so dehydrated, so they gave her more IV fluids. Now she's keeping fluids and bland foods down - she told me she never knew that a cup of broth would taste so good!
I remember years ago when Polly was on such a tight budget at college and I worried if she had enough in her food budget. Or when Julia was living in Wisconsin and nearly died from carbon monoxide poisoning. So far away. So little I can do. I pray and try to not fuss and make the situation worse. I try to be sensible and useful.
But it's hard when you worry and there's really not much else to do in the middle of the night.