Nanny's been back in the hospital since Monday at noon when we went with her to her doctor's appointment. Her hemoglobin has dropped again so she needed another transfusion. Except this time she'll be in until they do a bunch of scopes and a bone marrow biopsy. May even be in until sometime next week.
I have little faith in the health care system when the doctor - only four weeks ago - promised she would not be released until they found the problem. Obviously they were wrong.
My stress levels are through the roof lately. Work is the biggest stressor. The anticipation of change. The stress of nothing actually happening. Then with Nanny in the hospital and Skye staying with us - and pooping and peeing on the floor - it's all too much.
And I wish I could say I've sheltered you from it, I can't. I'm short with you, tired and generally rushed. Rushed to get supper in us, rushed to get to the hospital every evening, rushed to get you home to bed.
It's getting to you, too. You cry and latch onto me when you go to Amy's in the morning. You do not want to cooperate with anything. And you're tired. It's just hard on all of us. Boy, do we need a vacation.
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