Wednesday, February 7, 2007 A Rash, a Wrangle, $0.79, Glorious Benadryl

My Dear Fellow Blog Readers:

Just a short update tonight to let you know that Dad and Eileen are still in the WP. Two circumstances prevented Dad's discharge. First, he developed a rash in reaction to one of the anti-biotics, and since the rash caused the merest tiniest little blip of a fever (99, to be exact) Dr. O'Rourke felt like another night in the hospital would not be unreasonable. The second circumstance is that when Dad and E do head home (probably tomorrow or the next day) they will be bringing new gear that will allow E to give Dad IV fluids, since for Dad to drink enough water to replicate hospital-level hydration would be a real challenge, not to mention the opposite of fun. The paperwork wrangle involved in ordering said gear takes time, and they really can't go home until they are fully stocked with the supplies that Eileen* will need to maintain the anti-biotic/hydration program from the lake. Dammit, right? Well, perhaps not.

Years ago, my brother John taught me a valuable phrase that describes circumstances like these: life tax. When seemingly arbitrary and stupefyingly unfair things happen, "life-tax" is always the term that comes to my mind. Considering the life-tax levies presented to Team Leamy in the past four months, this one is pretty paltry by comparison. I'll call it $0.79. It has the power to annoy, but it's still pretty close to free. LPCTC, if we all chip in a penny's worth of prayer and a nickel's worth of love for Super-Dad and Super-E, if we pray for them to weather this delay with eqanimity, the bill gets paid pretty fast. Considering how many of you pray daily for Dad and for our family, so many pennies and nickels are indeed an embarrassment of riches.

And always, there is more than one upside. Because of the rash, Dad got a healthy dose of Benadryl, which some of you might remember produces glorious results. So far, sleepiness is the only reported outcome of the Benadryl dose, but I am checking my email hourly for any new compositions.

Jen (for Dad and E)

*Eileen, or Mamacita, as I often think of her, relayed all this information to me via voice mail. If she were the complaining sort, I am sure she'd say she was a bit disappointed. As it turns out, however, she's not that sort. When she called, she was eating dinner and watching Dad sleep, and sounding not the least bit out of sorts. Super-powers of her own kind, I think.