So, basically, we've discovered that the infections that have been keeping The Boy in the hospital (since April 20!!1!!1!) are being caused by bacteria on his skin and in his system, not by catching something from us or from someone else. That's good, in one sense - it's not our fault. That's bad, in that - until we somehow get this under control - we're playing Russian Roulette every time his counts drop in the middle of a cycle.
This is #8 this weekend, out of 30. Sigh.
The Boy is doing well. He's playing again, and spending large chunks of time being a Couch 'tato. ("Can you say couch potato?" "TATO!!!!" It's very cute.) Mommy's with him right now.
So, here's my schedule: test for math school immediately after my school. Then, hospital. Leave hospital around 8 to go home and run. Morning, breakfast with wife, schoolwork. Allergist appointment at noon. Appointment up in Little Falls for marching band stuff from 2:30 until 6. Hospital to actually see my son for a little while, then home. Sunday - mass first thing in the morning, then back to church at 3:00 until 6:30-ish for an Evensong mass. Then, hospital. Monday morning school all day, brief rehearsal after school, then concert at night - big, long, brutal performance with me directing 4 bands and 170 kids standing on stage in a jacket and tie under stage lights for an hour and a half. Home, pass out, back to school Tuesday morning for jazz band celebration. School, then marching band for the baseball game, then back to hospital to get ten minutes with a (likely sleeping) baby and no time for barbershop rehearsal. Oh, yeah - that's the day I start teaching my master's degree project. You know, the one that I haven't written a single lesson plan for.
Wednesday, doctor's appointment at 5. Thursday, concert at school that I'm only marginally involved with. Friday's an easy school day, then a Saturday graduation party and Sunday barbershop show, the Monday concert at school that I'm not involved in but still need to attend. That's a brutal couple of weeks, during which I'll be absolutely no help to my wife and not present at all for or with my son. That's kind of depressing.
It's the time of year, I know. It's still frustrating. I hope that some of these days he'll be home, so that I can save an hour's drive and spend that time WITH him.