I’m sitting in the ER waiting room. We’ve checked in. Two families were already sitting when we walked through the door, and another was in the process of being checked in. I can’t tell by looking at the children if they will be prioritized before us. I made to sure to pick a chair a few feet from everyone else there, but made sure that it still left open spaces for other families who are bound to come in. I know how many of my friend’s kids have been sick. I gently stroke my child’s hair and read a book on my phone. At least, I think I’m reading it. I’m not really sure what the last page said, but I know that “Bluey” is playing on the TV and my child’s iPad is playing something.

Should I tuck her chair back more? I smell something rotten and familiar. Is her diaper dirty? Or did she silently vomit, and I was too absorbed in my book to notice? I snap my eyes up while silently reprimanding myself for being an inattentive parent.

It’s then that I realize that I am with Ranen, not Lyra. Ranen has the fever. “Super Kitties” is playing on the iPad, not “Sing”. Ranen is sitting in a regular chair, not one with wheels. He doesn’t wear diapers, and he would warn me before he threw up.

This is what flashbacks can look like for me. While I was with Ranen this time, my brain had trouble remembering that.

While going to the ER with Lyra is very routine, it is also re-traumatizing. From an outsiders perspective, I may seem very calm and collected. I show up with snacks, water, chargers, and often a sweater. I repeat over and over again to providers along the way that I know what to expect, and I seem to have it all together. I’m often praised that I seem very calm and collected. What they don’t notice is my obsessive checking of monitors and clocks. If there is a dip or spike, I can tell them exactly when it happened. I can tell the providers trends without them looking at charts. They don’t know that, as soon as they left the room, I made sure to locate the extra towels and clocked where the trashcan and laundry basket were. They don’t notice that I keep the call button by her head, so if things so wrong, they can hear me while I care for her. These days, I am normally only in the ER with her for a UTI test. It’s a simple and quick visit. But every time I go in, my body is prepared for the bad visits. Apparently, even when I am only there with Ranen.

Oh, and Ranen is fine. He has strep and of course started running a high fever when the doctor’s office was closed. After 2/10 doses of antibiotics he spent the day running around the house and talking our ears off. Lyra enjoyed his chaos.