The Boss of Seattle took one of her three sons to the ER last night, for what she was certain was acute appendicitits. They were at the zoo, viewing the snakes, when her ten year old doubled over in gut pain. Snakes make my tummy hurt too, but this appeared to be way more serious. He couldn't throw up, burp, poop or fart, and The Boss became more concerned. They went home, he took a long nap and then woke up literally crooked with pain, clutching his right side. Still, no emissions.
After a few hours in the ER, including tests and x-rays that showed nothing to be apparently wrong with him, they were sent back home. But not before a long, heartwarming talk with the attending physician, who filled The Boss in on a variety of fatal illness that her son could have had (but didn't!), and named a number of horribly painful ways he could have died (but didnt!), and then basically finally got to her point, which was that she was extremely glad that The Boss had brought her son in to the ER, as his mysterious symptoms could have pointed to something serious. But luckily and thank goodness, they didn't and it wasn't.
Before they went home, The Boss offered to the doctor, her own diagnosis:
"I think it's a severe case of candyitis."
The doctor thoughtfully agreed. (it wasn't that hard; there was a lot of it going around last week).
Tonight, The Boss's son wants nothing to do with the rest of his halloween candy. He did, however, eat some chard with his dinner.