So, this was supposed to be a very social weekend for us. We were supposed to see my brother's new condo today, go to dinner with Todd and Alan, and go to lunch tomorrow with our friend Cathy and Matt, and their new baby Olivia.
And then.
I picked up Jane at daycare last night and they told me she had a low-grade fever and wasn't acting herself. She's had a cold/cough for a few days, but it really kicked up a few notches yesterday. We took her to the doctor just in case, and they checked her out and didn't find an ear infection or anything, so that was good. Also, apparently, there's some nasty-ass bronchial thing going around, but they didn't think it was that either. But the poor girl is so sick. She's been just miserable all day, and all plans have been canceled. She's just hacking away, with a very runny nose and watery eyes and red face - it's just plain sad. I feel so bad for her, because I can't tell her that although colds are horrible, they will go away and she'll be right at rain soon (I hope!!).
So much for my social weekend. But there was one highlight - Alan and Todd dropped off some cupcakes on their way to Hole in the Wall tonight. Anyone who knows me knows how much a sucker I am for cupcakes. So thanks to them, there was a bright spot in an otherwise sickly day.
PS I have never been more annoyed with a kid than I was yesterday at the doctor's office. We whisked Jane in at the last minute - they were able to squeeze her in right before they closed - and while we were in the waiting room this 6 or 7-year-old boy came up to her and started touching her hands. I said, all loud-like, "Oh, you don't want to touch her, she's sick!" and he responds "that's OK, I'm sick too!" Oh my Lord. Where was his mother? Hello? Don't touch my baby! Sometimes I wish I could just store her in a vat of Purell and call it a day.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
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I had my first microbiology class today. By the end we were all pulling out our Purell.
Poor baby, there must be something going around. It's going around my office, too.
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