He's still in bed and going in to the doctor at eleven. He had gotten better and was even well enough to go to "Hair Day" on Saturday and attend the IPMS meeting (which was actually switched to next Saturday but he didn't get the e-mail on time) and go to trivia. None of these events was any kind of exertion: I did more work vacuuming the house Saturday afternoon. Nevertheless, he was pale and headachy yesterday and despite rest, hot soup, and aspirin—not to mention still being on antibiotics!—now has a fever again, 100.5°F.

This isn't good. I've known James 21 years and he's never been sick this long. Heck, he didn't even have a temp this long after his sleep apnea surgery.

The pollen is killing all of us: Willow's been snuffling and Pidgie was so listless on Saturday I wondered if I was going to have to take him to the vet (he's going through his spring moult and looks like a scarecrow; moulting lowers their resistance and I have to be careful). And now I'm coughing, which if I don't watch out will turn into my biannual spring bronchitis (I seemed to be wheezing last night when I went to sleep).

If that cheerful litany wasn't enough, my cousin Anna called me yesterday to tell me what my Mom hadn't about the doctor's appointment she has this week: she's having a CAT scan (which I knew) to determine if the cancer has spread (which I didn't know). If it has spread the doctor is just going to stop treating her because there's nothing else he can do.

I've been trying to prepare myself for months for this. It's still clobbering me between the eyes.

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 9:06:00 AM

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