Except it wasn’t her heart Jo left in San Francisco. It was her appendix.

Instead of Chinatown and the Golden Gate Bridge we are touring the emergency room and children’s ward. My big girl has an IV taped to her arm, plastic bracelets on both wrists and three small, heart-shaped bandages on her belly. She hasn’t had a bite of solid food since Friday evening.

Yes, our child had a ruptured appendix and instead of taking her to the doctor, we put her on a plane and flew her halfway across the country. You can line up right behind us for the Jerks of the Year award.

She needs four or five days of intravenous antibiotics and recovery time. It’s been 24 hours since the surgery and she can barely stand to move an inch or be touched anywhere on her body.

Which is to say: I may not make it to BlogHer. And the thing is, I don’t even care. I’ve been looking forward to it since the minute I drove away from the W last year, and I have lots of new friends I really wanted to meet this time (not to mention old ones to see again). But right now, the only place I want to be is next to this bed, in this vinyl-covered recliner, waiting for my sweet girl to smile again.