After 20 minutes or so of discussion and examination, she ruled out a traditional bone or joint infection. In fact, after the blood work came back clean a few hours later, she readily diagnosed Harley with something called toxic synovitis. (Trust me; it sounds a lot worse than it really is. Damn Latin. And no, it's not some kind of gum disease.)

Anyway, it's apparently also more commonly referred to as "irritable hip." It hits a lot of kids between 3 and 10, although boys tend to be much more prone to it.

In layman's terms, it's an inflammation in the hip joint lining that obviously inflicts pain throughout the leg, restricts movement and carries a mild fever. In other words, exactly what we saw. And while the clinical explanation's bad enough, it's absolutely heart-wrenching to see your otherwise happy and healthy 3-year-old limp around like the old man from Up (or me at the end of softball season).

Best part? Clears up on its own in a week or two. Oh, and no antibiotics, which is good because I'll admit it makes me nervous how those meds are dished out like chocolate eggs on Easter morning. Wouldn't do much good, anyway, since it's viral, not bacterial.

And while the relief that washed over us both was tinged with more than a little embarrassment (at least on my part), the frustration that preceded it flared right back up. There's wasn't a single reason things had to have played out the way they did.

In fact, the specialist — our last stop on this particular health care system excursion — walked us through her diagnosis step by step. Explaining why she ruled out this or that along the way until she reached her actual diagnosis. And actual treatment simply amounts to ibuprofen three times a day — to address both the fever and the inflammation.

And, as I said, now I feel like a fool. (And I guess I really didn't need to get her that guilt-laden Little Mermaid Lego set.) But a better conversation from the beginning could have led to a very different outcome. Now my wife's already shopping for pediatricians, my in-laws are calling more than ever and Harley got an early Easter with all the loot she piled up this week.

It's almost startling that something we talk about so much in this business — communication — remains so underrated.