It's been a rough 24 hours. Logan was up a few times overnight frantically complaining that his head hurt. Once, he even threw up. Then this morning he was up extra early again complaining - crying, really - that the back of his head hurt and that he wanted to go see the doctors. I heard him tell Adam 'I want to feel better' and it was just so crushing to know that there was nothing I could do to help him. I insisted that Adam call neuro to see if we could try to go in earlier, and he did, begrudgingly. (God love my husband, but he's more stubborn that a mule most of the time.) I would've called myself, but Logan was in my bed next to me gripping my hand so tightly that I couldn't move. After being on hold for 10 minutes, someone finally came back and said it would be better to wait until our scheduled appointment at 9:30. 2 hours and 40 minutes from now.
It's like torture to me. I want to scream BUT HE'S IN PAIN NOW! SURELY HE'S IN AS MUCH IF NOT MORE PAIN THAN MOST OF THE KIDS THERE! but I know it's futile because we're now part of the medical machine that serves who it wants to serve, when it wants to serve them.
I need good news, other than figuring out at 1:30 AM that my air conditioner does indeed work.