A lot has happened.
We moved. It’s done. I’ll tell you all about it soon.
The important thing is, on Saturday September 4th, David was diagnosed with meningitis.
Here is how I knew to take him to the doctor: He woke up, got out of bed and screamed.
He sat down and moaned. He laid down and cradled his head. He refused to move.
I took this as my cue to trick him into going to the doctor. He did so grudgingly. That was why the tricking was necessary.
On the ride there, he screamed or moaned or groaned every time we hit a pothole. The bright sunlight streaming directly into his eyes? Did not bother him one bit.
I was concerned. I had no idea what could do that to a person.
Although I must say, as he continued to curse the heavens and the birds and even chocolate for the pain he was in, it was hard to be sympathetic. Concerned, sure. Sympathetic? that was tough.
After a very, very, very long day in the ER, we got a diagnosis. Spinal meningitis. It had us down.
So David was hospitalized.
It was at this point that David declared “They are keeping me here as long as possible just to bill my insurance. That is why they have yet to admit me or get me a room. I’ve seen that 21 Minutes.” Oh, how I laughed.
Have I mentioned yet that this was three days after our move? My house? Was not yet baby proofed. Lucky for me, it was also not lived in for the next 3 days while Alex and I stayed with my parents and David stayed in the hospital.
The hospital stay turned out to be a blessing because it helped David recover more quickly. It also happened to be a complete accident that I, because I am an evil genius, had scheduled blog posts through September 11th. I figured, why worry about it during Alex’s birthday week when I can just be prepared?
So those of you who thought I was all impressive and up on my blogging? Nope. It was a total fluke. From August 30th – September 11th I was missing a total of one post. Which Sue filled with her tale of her husband’s bout with meningitis. Voluntarily.
People, I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you. I’ll tell you a tale of having my ass saved again when I talk about the birthday party. But essentially? People have been volunteering to help me left and right lately. I am infinitely blessed.
Or perhaps I just seem like a total charity case.
Although, when we got home from the hospital I did find a box empty except for one thing: a bottle of milk Alex had stashed there for later. My blessings do not include spilled milk protection it seems.