"So he'll probably get better... or worse."

Thank you, Modern Medical Fucking Science.

So we take Daughter to the doctor to see about her cough. "It's bronchitis, she'll get better in the next few days... or she'll get worse. If she get's worse, come back." She's worse. Thanks.

But to trump that times a billion, we take Son to BC Childrens Hospital. The good news: we didn't need to cut his knee open because apparently the inflammation isn't TOO severe, and the medicine is doing it's job. The bad news? It's spread to his other knee, as well as his eyes. He has to stay on the Naproxen, as well as start topical steroidal eyedrops to try and fix his eyes, before it gets too bad and he goes blind. On the way out, we were assured that he'll probably get better... or worse. We have to go back in six weeks to see which it is.

Thank you so very, very much for explaining the two options to me. Without you there, I'd never have known that something like an idiopathic disease could have two possible outcomes, or that one of them could result in my son being blind and crippled. Thank you from the bottom of my bile-filled heart.

But Son, in typical fashion, went Trick or Treating for an hour, and I almost broke down when he gave me a great big hug when we got home for "being so nice tonight, and carrying him when his legs got tired, because his legs aren't as strong as my legs". It was just out of nowhere. He went to bed, and we talked about the new eyedrops he'll have to start taking tomorrow, and I think he's OK with it, as long as we're there to give him Kleenex and hugs in between drops.

So, even counting the one where I got cracked in the head with a frozen egg hurled from a passing car that caused me to black out in a Juniper bush, this was the worst Hallowe'en ever.

How are you all doing?

Amuzing linky-poo of the day:Robot Chicken Clips