For those who don't know it yet, Mike Hendriks out of Charlotte, NC has a wonderful blog entitled Cold Fury. I stop by there when I can, which isn't as often as I would like lately, and on my last trip I found this
entry, which should be required reading for everyone.
My stepson Richard is about to enter his third year as a U.S. Marine, and I couldn't be prouder of him. He and I didn't always get along during his teenage years (to put it bluntly, I thought he was a total slacker, and he thought I was a pain in the ass), but since his boot camp experience he and I have become good friends. When he comes home on leave we usually end up talking into the wee hours at least one night while he's home. The change in him has been enormous.
If anyone asks me if I support our troops, I tell them of course I do. I also support the effort in the Middle East to free the Iraqi people from a brutal dictator, which we have done. Personally, I think we should have told the world to sod off during Gulf War I and taken Saddam out then, but I wasn't in a position of power then or now. I never served in the military, although The Better Half did (Vietnam-era Air Force veteran) and my stepson is now. I almost joined the Air Force back in the day, and wish now that I had. After 9/11 I went and talked to several recruiters but was turned down (age, health concerns) by all of them. I even talked to the National Guard recruiters and was told that I was really too old to start from scratch. I'm not in the best physical shape, granted, but I felt like I could do SOMETHING to help in the war against terror, if it was nothing more than push a pencil. It kills me to have to sit on the sidelines and watch men and women put their lives on the line and there's nothing I can do to help.
On a lighter note, Sarah Rose came home this afternoon. She appears to be happy to be home and in her own crib again. We also have a little guy with us for about ten days (respite care). He's almost two years old and is supposedly autistic, although I don't seem to have a problem communicating with him. He uses simple sign language for some of the things he says, and I remember some of the signs I learned while we were caring for a deaf child some years back, so he and I can talk about simple things at least.
It's late, and I'm tired, so I'll end for now. Later, y'all!
Wow. What a month or two this has been! First, let me wish everyone a belated Merry Christmas and Happy New Year (hey, better late than never!). Things at the cave were about as they are every year - hectic, crazy, you name the adjective.
I apologize for the sparseness of entries lately. Life has been interfering with blogging again. How dare it! Anyway, I have a legitimate excuse for the last couple of weeks. Sarah Rose and I came down with Montezuma's revenge about three weekends ago, so we were sharing a weekend of misery. I felt bad, but I felt worse for her. We had to eventually start pumping Pedialite into her through her stomach tube to keep her from dehydrating. Anyway, a few days after the crud had run its course, The Better Half and I noticed that Sarah's stomach was distending. After trying the usual remedies (parents, you know of what I speak - everyone else, you don't want to know) with no success, The Better Half took her to the emergency room to see a doctor. Well, Sarah was admitted to the hospital that night after X-rays showed that she had a perforated intestine. Keeping in mind that Sarah only has about 68 centimeters of intestine in total, removal of the perforated section is not an option in my mind. So for the last ten days or so (could be more - time has gotten away from me lately) Sarah has been hooked up to an IV antibiotic up at Wake Med, and my time has consisted of going to work, going to the hospital, and sleeping.
The Better Half pestered the doctors about why this happened, and finally one of them told her that children with short bowel syndrome are susceptible to perforations when they get a stomach bug. That was news to her and to me. For now, it means a protracted hospital stay for my little angel. For later, it means we have to be extra diligent when Sarah gets sick. Just one more thing to be on the lookout for.
Thankfully, everyone else at the cave is healthy at the moment, aside from the fact that The Better Half and I are run pretty ragged by now. What's that quote, something about "sleep, that knits the raveled sleeve of care" or something like that. Sleep, a good, sound sleep, would be nice about now. Maybe in a few days. I'll try to do better and keep everyone posted about progress. No promises.
Saw in the news yesterday that a couple of skulls they found about 30 years ago had been redated and are actually 195,000 years old, plus or minus 5,000 years. My first thought was "Damn, they're getting good at dating those things." My second thought was, "Gee, I wonder if that was Great-Granddad?"