Poop Croup a Doop
Last night Leelo was up past 12:30AM, including a bath-caliber shitstorm. I'd had a long day and so spent the next hour decompressing via volume 5 of Y: The Last Man. Mali then woke up at 2:30 AM with croup so intense and breathing so labored that the on-call nurse had me take her to the ER immediately.
And you know what? We're all just fine. I have a partner with whom to share the child-rearing drudge work. Last night's exertions meant that Leelo went to sleep earlier tonight (10:30). We live five minutes from a pleasant suburban ER where Mali was the only patient, the staff was cheerful and kind, and the treatment was immediate and eventually effective. There were a couple of nasty hours at the ER when Mali's symptoms just wouldn't abate, but then at 5:30 AM she sat bolt upright up and babbled like a stand-up comic about her dad's possible locations, doing spot-on Noo-Noo imitations, and accusing the ER doctor of not being her pal Dr. M (true enough). We were discharged less than an hour later.
Tonight Jo and Badger came over for dinner and we had a mellow, pleasant evening. We talked about Jo's impending procedure, and I hope I was supportive even in my combined state of awareness and deep denial. During dinner my mother-in-law called to let me know that a state of emergency has been declared for her entire Island (that would be Mercer) due to the recent windstorm. They've had no phones or power for days. Another day, another shitbomb lobbed at people I love.
I've got context coming out of my bottom. Yup. I'm just fine.