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Late last night “The Teenager” was goofing off with a couple of her best gal buddies and she wacked her head, not too hard, but a whack none-the-less. I had her ice it, gave her an Ibuprofen with water and told her to stay awake awhile.

I checked  on her later,  she was sleepy (understandable, it was late and she’d had an active day) but otherwise seemed fine – no headache, dizziness, etc… so I told her she could crash out; but if she woke up sick to her stomach to come wake me.

She didn’t. She woke up puking, but didn’t want to disturb me, knowing I have sleep-issues. Ahh, sweet kid, can’t be mad at that. However, the already paranoid anxiety monkeys that dance in my head started going full primate; flinging poo missiles of doom all around my brain.

I quickly put her through her paces again. “Are you dizzy, nauseated, do you have a headache and is there bruising? Let me check. No, no bruising or swelling, just your birthmark. How many times did you hurl, did you lick The Ebola”?

Nope, all systems clear except the super nausea. I threw some bananas at the paranoid anxiety monkeys and thought it through – likelihood is the head-thump was not related to the all-night-puke-fest.

The downside of that is – this happens a lot. The stomach issues; she did the same thing a few weeks ago after accidentally ingesting maple syrup in something her step-mother made for a family meal – even though maple syrup is a known chump-trigger for my kid… but that is a story for another blog.

She gets stomach-ache like this pretty easily and my concern is growing. It’s definitely time to get her into a doctor and have him or her do a ‘full diagnostic’ on the kid. Make sure she’s not suffering from any family genetics… she looks healthy, thin and fit and all the rest… but, medically speaking, she’s got diabetes on both sides, chronic fatigue, migraines, fibromyalgia and anemia on my side… not to mention a plethora of cancers on both sides.

It’s hard NOT to worry; all I can do is make sure she eats healthfully with me and whenever else she can, and exercises regularly, goes to the doctor, gets physicals, etc.  I remind myself gently.

I fed the monkeys more bananas and wrote this blog to help the anxiety lessen. I know I’m not the only parent up late worrying and wondering over things we can’t possibly control… talking ourselves down from mental ledges… and diligently choosing common sense over WebMD, lest I discover she has Schistosomiasis or Dengue fever, possibly both.

Over the course of the day she has managed to keep down water and some ginger ale, her temperature is just a degree over normal and she is now sleeping. There are two or three rambling pygmy marmosets bouncing around nervously in my sub-conscience, which means as soon as this blog is posted I’ll go make another cup of tea and check on “The Teenager”, and I’ll check up on her each time I get up in the night, which is often.

Sure, I know she’s probably fine, just has a little bug or ate too much of the wrong thing, but hey… she may be old enough to drive and have a boyfriend  whose sweet enough to come hang out and risk whatever hijacked my girl’s Sunday just so they don’t miss the one day they get to see each other this week(he’s good kid- I approve), but  – as all parents know – she’s still my baby and I’m still going to worry, and check, and fuss, and check again.