Kina got a tummyache at lunch yesterday, and maybe it was because of sesame oil? Hard to say, because I am not a doctor and the nurse is also not a doctor and also it’s hard to say what it feels like to have a tummyache when you are five. Fortunately, I work exclusively at home because of an ongoing pandemic and can walk to her school in under five minutes. While I’m not sure that being there was any more instructive than talking to her on the phone, I was at least able to talk face-to-face with Kina and feel reasonably assured that she wasn’t in anaphylactic shock or anything that was headed in that general direction; I gave her a hug and a kiss and watched her walk back to class with an administrator before heading home uneasily and… hosting a three-hour long online conference session. This is how the universe sets things up for me; I don’t make the rules.
So I basically sat in my bedroom and gesticulated thoughtfully on Zoom for a few hours and panicked privately until Kina returned home and frolicked around as if nothing had ever happened. Apparently her tummyache went away just as soon as she walked into her classroom. Huzzah! I have no idea how much of her little bout of heartburn was directly related to something she ate and how much could be attributed to the stress of talking to grownups about what the tummyache could signify, but the brain-gut feedback loop is strong in me, and I imagine it played at least a small part in her experience yesterday as well.
I was a little bit worried that Kina would develop an aversion to lunch or nurses from the whole experience, so I tried to get ahead of that at dinner last night, but when I asked her what she remembered most about her visit to the school nurse, all she said was, “I thought I saw my friend Andrew’s sister there, and when I asked her if she was Andrew’s sister, she said no.” If that’s all she remembers, it’s a good enough sign, I guess. Sorry, Andrew’s sister. Better luck next time.
dad