Some Days Are Diamonds . . .

some days are stones.

A mostly quiet weekend. I've been doing the night shift. Eleanor comes in the day, so I go to the hotel, shower, maybe nap and go back. Nights are getting better and better--but still not sure why the doctors do their rounds at 5:30 a.m.

On the way to the Mologne House

 On Sunday, Bryan talked Seth into going to a barbecue put on by a local HOG chapter. It's quite a trek over to the Mologne House where it was held, and the weather was so hot and muggy, it was quite miserable. The food was great, and the leather-clad Harley dudes were so kind to us and especially the Wounded Warriors. Seth ate one chicken wing and then hit his misery limit, so we headed back--Eleanor and I running to keep up with all the food in our hands. Later in the day, the LDS missionaries dropped by to feed our souls.

By dinner time, Seth felt pretty crappy, and we found that he had a fever of 102. This sent the nurses into high gear, and they had to draw blood from two places and do probably seven cultures. The worry, of course, is that he has pneumonia or one of the many infections that guys can bring back from Afghanistan or develop just by being in the hospital.

This morning, the doctor told us his work-ups showed a urinary tract infection--a big relief because that is easily handled.

The highlight for the weekend was a visit from my old college roommate and her husband who live nearby in Virginia. When she called, she said, "We have an extra car--would you be able to use that?" She received her answer when I immediately broke into tears. So now I have wheels! Thank you, Bill and Sally!

Charlie had another good column, with help from Rebecca. Check it out here.

Random (or not so random) Concurrence:

• My nephew and his wife have a new baby girl who has had some complications that have caused her, among other things, to lose weight and become dehydrated,  requiring IVs and a feeding tube with the accompanying misery of trying to find a vein in the body of tiny, dehydrated baby. I shared their story with Seth, and it made him so sad. He felt grateful that, even with all that he is going through, he at least knows what is happening and why, and that everything that is being done--even when it hurts and is miserable--is to help him get better. How difficult to watch a baby without such understanding go through these things.