My Soap Opera Life

So my own health and well-being has been the main plot in the soap opera of my life for awhile now. Had my physical and the doc tested about a gallon of my blood. Fell and hit my head. Got sick with the "cough thing" and hacked out my lungs for a week--then it moved to my sinuses. Had my follow-up appointment to my physical and learned that there's MEDICAL reasons for some of my issues--AND they can be fixed! And that's just the recent past.

Today we started a new plot line in the soap opera of my life. Besides the impending move and my own illness, now that I'm re-joining the human race, my sweet husband is feeling like freeze-dried garbage. He had a rough night. Tossing and turning and breathing issues. So it was no surprise to me when he announced this morning, "I feel awful." Dude, I was totally in your same shoes last weekend!

Gone out the window were our plans to make yummy goodies on our last weekend before complete insanity hits. Gone out the windows were our plans to go on a family bike ride. (I actually think that activity jinxes us. In the future, I'm not going to even allude to the desire to take a family ride--we'll just be spontaneous.) And we had yet another quiet, most-everyone-didn't-even-bother-to-get-dressed kind of day. Hannah played on the computer. Robert and Toph vegged and played video games. I washed dishes (finally!), worked on some cards, and read.

Since I'm not back to 100%, Robert is now sick, and tonight Hannah complained about having a sore throat and Toph complained about a stomach ache (and flu IS going around), I think we'll be having another quiet day tomorrow. I can't take much more of this!

I know I've said this before, but it bears repeating: I think we need to paint over the doorway with some lamb's blood, so the destroying angel of health will passover our house. Passover is in the spring; I know this. But I'll take anything I can get at this point! How bad would it be to bathe in Lysol? Could I get an IV of Purell? I now live in fear of having to walk into the doctor's office--I don't want to come into contact with the new germs we haven't caught yet.

And so go these the Days of our Lives in the (Mostly) Young and (Mostly) Potty-Trained.