I still want to write about Sandra Tsing Loh, but I fear that by the time I get around to it we will be on to the next media outrage. Soon, perhaps.


Things are still hitting the fan around here. My husband was discharged on Monday after treatment for pneumonia. Although his sister had to leave Sunday afternoon, my parents arrived Monday evening so they were able to help me get him settled in and comfortable. Although he continues to feel a bit better every day he's still quite weak and getting through each day takes a lot out of him.


Also on Monday we took the Little Diva into her doctor for checking since she had developed a very bad, raspy cough. The Boy Wonder had had RSV when he was just two months old, the aftermath of which lasted for more than two years, so I am very alert for signs of respiratory discomfort. Anyway, no RSV (thank God), but we're nebulizing and watching carefully.


On Tuesday I finally found time to head to my own doctor. After series of deep breaths (yeah, right), inhalations into various little tubs and lots of frowning with stethoscopes I received my own diagnosis: pneumonia. Yeah, you read that right. Can you believe it? The doctor said that ordinarily she'd have sent me in for a chest x-ray to confirm, but given my tale of woe about the husband and baby and what she heard in my lungs and saw of my breathing tests, she felt it wasn't necessary this time. So now I have my own mini-pharmacy (each component of which I was pleased to learn is compatible with nursing, so no worries there). I'm lucky that I don't have any underlying lung disease (as my husband does) or I might have been whalloped as badly as he was.


The Boy Wonder (a.k.a. "Our Little Vector") has remained well and only notes from time to time that he is tired of "all this coughing!" Yeah, me too, kid.


So my parents have disinfected the house, washed all the towels and bedding, swabbed out our cars and have generally just labored to put us all back together again. It has been a long week.