So I should have never written about my “awful” morning the other day, because that’s just taunting fate.
This weekend, in the midst of the basketball game (we were watching on TV, not at the game, thankfully!), my husband informed me that he needed to go to the emergency room. Hello again, kidney stones.
After two emergency room visits, one overnight hospital stay and five trips to and from the hospital, we spent all day today waiting for a procedure I can’t pronounce that would hopefully break up the kidney stones. It worked.
As I was sitting in the consultation room waiting for the doctor immediately after the procedure was over, daycare called. Baby has pinkeye, come get him.
When it rains, it pours, isn’t that what “they” say?
Rushed the husband out of recovery. Picked up the baby. Dropped off the husband. Drove to the pediatrician’s office (we still use a doctor in Overland Park because we love them, and frankly they have better hours and urgent care than the local offices). Pinkeye confirmed. Drove back to Lawrence to the pharmacy (not our usual pharmacy, which was already closed for the day). Learned it apparently takes them over an hour to fill a prescription. Went home and fed the baby. Back to the pharmacy and back home. Fought with the baby to get drops in his eyes. Put him to bed.