Well the kiddo is sick, but it's not the flu. Some ongoing respiratory bug that has moved from a cough up to her sinuses. Hegemonic germs.
I think I've just horribly abused the word hegemonic, but I don't care. I like the way it sounds.
She's not feverish and is in good spirits...the whining is at its usual full bore. She's currently running through the house blowing a New Year's noise maker loud enough to make my ears fold over to protect themselves. So, full steam ahead.
I have the asthma just in time to not enjoy a lovely Spring-like day less than ten days before Christmas. The asthma does not like temperature swings and is generally a cantankerous life companion. I would like a divorce and a restraining order. Someone tell me how to get one.
Anyway... story about my parent of the spine surgery.
They were t-boned yesterday by someone who failed to yield when they were supposed to.
A dramedy of errors, this surgery.
They are okay. Only minor whiplash, but goodness. Really? And I thought I was a real calamity Jane.
At least I know where I get it from.
Oh! And someone asked about the kiddo's diagnosis. Initially I did not share because I had a run-in with another parent who had a conniption fit of some kind. Apparently, that parent kept a weaponized score card and, without understanding the game we were playing, I lost. Therefore I sucked as a mother and other nastiness that I'd sooner like to forget. I wasn't interested in what infertiles call the 'Pain Olympics' so I thought I would just keep my mouth shut here regarding the Name of Things.
Now, I'm withholding information as it is identifying. Not that I would shrivel up and die if one or two trolls looked me up, but I think, for her privacy, I should be circumspect.