Or 0156 to be exact. There is a noise from the boys’ room. Then a loud and imperious summons. A boy has vomited. He’s proud of the fact that he has not done so in his bed. I’m less impressed that he’s done it over the side of the top bunk all over the railway set laid out on the floor below.
I pad downstairs in search of disinfectant and a bowl. And discover that an animal has shat all along the corridor. With my feet. Which are bare.
In other news, my shoulder is a lot less painful and inhaling no longer results in stabbing sensations. Which means that I am now able to
S I G H
Oh, my! Sighs indeed.
Oh man. Sometimes you gotta laugh to keep from crying, like the man said.
Oh. Oh. Surely today will be better??
Oh.
Oh dear, another one of those days, er nights. May it get better.
Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh. May your world be less aggressively Rabelasian today.
Phew… lay down with the patient on the sofa this morning and woke up again five hours later! The patient had remodelled the interior of the house by erecting partition walls of lego while I slept. And seemed very chirpy. I knew I had a sleep deficit, but wasn’t aware of the scale of it.
Thanks for all the good wishes!
This scenario is eerily familiar; I’m almost sure I’ve had that exact same night. Anyway, glad you got some sleep, and that the patient is now chirpy!