"Nurse, it's an appendix!"

They say truth is stranger than fiction. I say sometimes life parallels fiction.

Mary is planning to go see the play "Madeline" in downtown Portland this Saturday with two girlfriends. For those who haven't read the Madeline book, she's a little girl who frowns at the bad, smiles at the good, and in the midst of a lot of clever rhyming, has her appendix taken out. (Miss Clavel ran fast and faster, afraid of a disaster...and the doctor dialed DAN-Ten-Oh-Six, "Nurse, it's an appendix!")

Yesterday morning, Mary woke with a fever, complaining of pain in her stomach. For most of the day, she was quiet and lethargic and didn't eat much of anything. By early evening, when she turned down one of her Aunt Amy's famous flower cookies, I knew something was seriously wrong. The pediatrician recommended watching her carefully overnight, as she had a few of the symptoms of appendicitis. This morning, I was that overzealous mother waiting in front of the pediatrician's office when it opened to get Mary in to be seen. (In my defense, they have only seen us for regular vaccinations in the past two years, so I don't have a reputation. Yet.) The pediatrician took one look at Mary and sent us up to Doernbecher Children's Hospital where every single solitary service is designed around children and their families (thank the Lord!). We spent the morning in kid-friendly cozy spaces waiting for an ultrasound, then surgical consult, and finally, prepping for surgery. Just like Madeline, Mary was getting her appendix out.

All day, friends have texted me, "How is Mary? How are YOU?" And we are doing fine. You see, Mary was cool as a cucumber all day. No anxiety, no tears, no meltdowns. She listened to the doctors, asked a few soft-spoken questions, and just went along with it all. So there I was facing the prospect of my baby going under the knife with a resident who looks all of 25. (Insert terrifying mishaps from bad Grey's Anatomy episodes here, and my wild imagination got very carried away.) And yet how could I melt down when my six year was holding it together? Well, I couldn't, of course. So I didn't.

We made the best of it, and read every chapter book in my bag, as well as a few the hospital loaned us. Her t-ball team dedicated their game tonight to Mary (her sweet pal Emma confided that she wrote Mary's name three times in the dirt whilst playing shortstop...can't say if any balls were missed as a result!). Our amazing friends who watched Lucy for us today helped Lucy and pals make darling get-well pictures for Mary, and even sent us back to the hospital tonight with delicious soup for dinner. Best of all, when Mary finally awoke from the anesthesia tonight, she got to have a midnight snack of pb&j and chocolate milk.

We're hoping she gets to go home tomorrow, but if not, something tells me she won't mind staying another day or two. Just like Madeline.