In case those tuning in missed out on yesterday's fun,
Just click on this here link and read over Part One.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Reacting to the nurse's words, I drove Sprite in to be seen,
Even though of an expensive co-pay, I wasn't really keen.
She wasn't crying anymore, but her hands remained clasped tight,
Never moving from their eternal post at her belly button site.
She still refused to walk and stand when we got to the parking lot,
So, I carried her in and registered my mysteriously broken tot.
Yet, once the bracelet was applied and we were in the waiting room,
Her gray cloud disappeared and took with it the haze of gloom.
She started chattering excitedly, looking around in glee,
And taking a few steps at a time, between the chairs and me.
As soon as the triage nurse called for Sprite's name,
Sprite jumped up and smiled broad, was this some kind of game?
When the nurse tried to examine her, she started bouncing about,
The nursed glanced back at me patiently, taking in my look of doubt.
"Don't worry, you're not jumping the gun, she should still be seen,
These symptoms you've described should be checked, her bill of health marked clean."
We were taken to the exam area, where John found us soon,
And listened with amazement (and a little relief) to Sprite's happy tune.
She no longer resembled the sad little waif I had described on the call,
In fact, she was jumping on the hospital bed, not looking sick at all.
The doctor ordered an X-Ray and a catheter to get pee,
Yet, now all of these tests no longer seemed needed to me.
We described what we had seen and heard and what we knew as fact,
While thinking somewhere deep down in that this may have been an act.
Finally, the doctor returned with an X-Ray and the scoop,
"All this white stuff that you see? Is a few days worth of poop."
And as she explained the interior of Sprite's intestinal map,
John turned to his treasured girl and quipped, "Kid, you're full of crap."
"An enema for now," the doctor said, "and the rest in time will pass,"
As John thought of the expected bill, "That is some expensive gas."
The nurse brought in the torture device and began her intrusion,
As Sprite held onto John's neck, screaming with shock and confusion.
To add insult to injury, she had to walk the corridor,
For the stuff to work even better, I helped her pace the floor.
For a few minutes, it was a grand ole time, she had a cheery greeting,
For every patient we passed on the ER floor, every child she was meeting.
Until it happened, quick as a shot, a wave of fear passed through my pup,
And she held up her arms, her eyes wide in alarm, and shouted at me, "Up!"
I somehow got her back to base and knelt down in front of her,
And opened my arms for my poor little girl whose insides began to stir.
The noise made quite a symphony, and John thought I was daft,
Because it struck me as funny, and I laughed and laughed and laughed.
All the while, Sprite held on, her knuckles surely white,
Us both in tears for different reasons, we must have been a sight.
Finally, the explosion passed, and she relaxed in quiet relief,
Happy to get the poop party started, thankful the hurt was brief.
An ER trip, enema, and blocked up bowels, three milestones all in one,
Who knew that this trifecta of firsts would be so much fun?
So to sum up my epic poem and find closure to the frustration,
She went in with possible! appendicitis, and walked out with constipation.
Our night was over before it began, and we made our weary way home,
Sprite to bed, John to WoW, and me to this here poem.
So my friends, that is all there is to this tale of woe,
We may have missed Must See TV, but we definitely got a show.
(Yes, she's feeling much better now. Sprite was back to her usual shenanigans the very next morning.)
