Good news, bad news:
Elias is doing much better. I’m doing much worse.
Had lunch with Dad (and Shell, Millie, and kids) before he hit the road, and I hit the bed. Haven’t left almost all day. Fever. Queasiness. Congestion. Coughing. What is going ON. I feel like each day is a flip of the coin lately; like I’m either in the peak of health or bedridden.
Took medicine. Watched crime documentaries for hours on Jason’s iPad. He came home from work, touched my forehead. The blood splatter was consistent with a gunshot wound to the chest, the screen intoned. J gave me a concerned look, and I mumbled, “It helps me stay grateful.” It can always be worse. It can always be way worse.
Still tired. Typing this takes a lot out of me. About to go to sleep for the third time today. No news on the baby front, but when I asked Addie how she felt about another tiny Kimbel coming into the world, she patted my shoulder: “Babies are a big responsibility. You really need to think about this.” My daughter is a flip of the coin, too. Sometimes it’ll be total nonsense and giggling and weird noises. Sometimes she pulls Adult Wisdom out of nowhere.
This week should be empty and slow. It’s a good time to be sick, at least.