So sigh, it's been a couple of weeks since I posted. It's not
due to laziness or lack of discipline, I swear. ( Seriously. Don't listen to
anything these so called people who live here say. They are not to be trusted
with their opinions at all. Hell, they demanded to be fed daily. Like every
single day.) Actually Feisty Pants had decided to celebrate the fantastically
high pollen levels around here by getting sick. REALLY sick. First, she
developed some sinusy, bad cold deal and was stuck at home on oxygen for a
week. Then she seemed to get better and went back to school. But she wasn't
actually better. Just plotting new and interesting ways to brew pneumonia. So
just when we thought we were all done, boom, in the hospital for a week.
She developed a fever Saturday morning. So off to the doc's we went. That's a story in and of itself. To make a long story short don't you dare act
like I am the one in the wrong if don't answer your own answering service when
I know you are open for urgent visits and then get all haughty when I show up
and DEMAND that you see my kid. We all know that I don't have Muchausen's,
Feisty Pants really is medically fragile, and frankly, the only difference
between our views of my being a bitch are that I think I deserve a medal for
it. It is not my fault your answering service did not follow protocol and told me you were closed when I knew you were not. It was you or the ER and I did not think she needed the ER. Those places are germ factories and we only go there when we have to. We expected to be sent home with a different antibiotic and were all
surprised when she was admitted. But such is life with a feisty one. It's
always surprising in both bad and good ways.
But four days of IV antibiotics and three of IM
antibiotics (read that as a shot in the hip) when the iv failed have put FP back on the good side of illness so
we are home and back into our routine. Back to school and therapy. Back to
being completely fed up with those boring old farts she lives with. Mastering
the art of the side eye when your annoying parents spout absolute
nonsense. Mastering the art of scoping out cute boys at school. Discovering
music that no one else has ever been cool enough to listen to no matter what
they claim. (Holy Cannoli, there is a song entitled Puff the Magic DRAGON! Who knew?) You know all the important things in life when you are twelve.
And here's to hoping we old farts can back to what
passes for normal around here. Catching up on cleaning and yard work that lay
neglected while we were gone. Explaining to the critters that we really are
still in charge. Catching up on sleep (please oh please oh please). Maybe even
writing a post or two. Well, here's to hoping anyway.
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