Phone Calls (Updated)

I want to be snug in bed right now, my head resting comfortably on my special pillow. I'd be wearing my fuzzy, soft, pink pajamas with the covers pulled up and folded neatly under my chin. But here I sit. I'm wide awake. I'm waiting. Waiting for the phone to ring.

It's nothing serious, I hope. Earlier in the evening I received one of those "mom, what should I do?" phone calls. Christina's voice sounded remarkably calm, although I suspect that was for my benefit. Ethan had choked on something. He began gagging, then vomitted. Whatever it was, it didn't come out. But he did start breathing, so it must have gone down. She wondered if she should take him to the Emergency Room to make sure he was okay. One part of me wanted to shout, "yes, get him there now!" Another part of me didn't want to be an alarmist. I suggested she call a real doctor and ask his advice. She did.

So somewhere, 70 miles away, Ethan and Christina are waiting. Waiting to be seen, waiting for ex-rays, waiting for the results, waiting to speak with the doctor. And I am waiting for the phone call that tells me everything is fine and I can go to bed now.

At 2:23 a.m. Christina sent me a text message to say that they were home and Ethan was fine. Hallelujah!