Okay, so that title is from the 80's. Sorry. Today, Hannah was sick. She's been coughing a bit, but last night she burst out with a massive fever and it wouldn't break and her throat hurt, so I figured strep. Seems reasonable.... sooo, I put her (and she is PITIFUL when she's sick) and E in the car to go to the doctor's office. We are half way there when Hannah starts to throw up mucus. I have nothing to give the poor child. I am on a 4 lane road and was finally able to pull down a side street, haul Hannah to the side door of the van and allow her to puke more mucus up... all over herself.
So, we finally make it to the doctor's office to find out she just has a virus. I hate throw up. As we're getting ready to leave the doctor's office, she has more to get rid of. It has to be one of the most hopeless feelings (not to mention crushing experiences realizing you have to clean it up) to watch your child be sick and not be able to do a single thing about it. She slept most of the day away and hopefully will be fine tomorrow.
The shocker of the day is that Zach not only told her goodnight, but told her he hopes she feels better. I almost fell off the couch- almost.
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So sorry she's sick! I'm with you, I HATE barf. Whenever Doug's home, he has to do it because it makes me sick to do it. But they don't always wait for him, ya know.
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