The Eagle Has Landed

That was scary. It seems 'We're not sure disease' quickly turned into 'horrific and life threatning.'

It would probably be in the best interest of all involved if I found a Pediatrician who was a bit less of a hypochondriac than me. Only, he is a hypochondriac by proxy. He had me convinced that if Anthony didn't poop by noon- his life was hanging in the balance and immediate surgery was his only hope.

So, George Michael prayed for time.

I prayed for poop.

It would seem that vomit + fever + no poop for two days = bowel obstruction.

Or constipation.

The Pediatrican chose the former. I believed him.

We were both wrong.

At 9:47 AM, my son insulted his diaper beyond repair. It was big and it was bad and it was named LeRoy.

So, crisis averted.

In less than 48 hours, I will be de-planing in the City Of Brotherly Love and hopping into the G hoopty- heading to the shore for three blessed days of drinking, gambling and general debauchery.

Expect a play by play trip report upon my return.

Is anyone still reading this??