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Dear friends,
Robin has put up with the patching of his good eye with great grace, under the circumstances.
With his greatly reduced vision, I suppose it is inevitable that a fidgety 5 year old would end up falling and hitting his head on the coffee table and lacerating the inside of his lip, falling up (and down) the stairs occasionally, and walking into various objects within the house because he can't see them.
It is, however, distressing to his parents.
I have relocated at work; my old desk was large, but an open cubicle in the direct line of sight of anyone who walked in, which was bad for health information privacy as well as my ability to get things done. I am now in a smaller desk back in the corner, between the optometrist and the allergist, and I have the lion's share of a large east-facing window. When I am at my desk in the morning, I can soak in the sunlight, which is what I am doing right now.
Lillian's breathing has resolved, for the most part; she has an occasional cough, but is back to being her old delightful self. She is enjoying having her grandmother to spoil her; I am sure that as the nanny situation resolves itself, she will enjoy having someone else to spoil her too.
The lice are, one hopes, soon to be a thing of the past. Everyone will be re-treated on Wednesday, and the Wednesday after that. I fully expect our washer to bite the dust; it's on its last legs.
Yesterday in urgent care someone brought in a child in respiratory arrest. It was not a good day. But today-- today the sun is shining in the window, warm on my forehead and chin. I have tea. I have a small quiet space between patients; life is looking up.
Thank you all for your good wishes for our family, for Robin, and for your help when we needed it most.
Robin has put up with the patching of his good eye with great grace, under the circumstances.
With his greatly reduced vision, I suppose it is inevitable that a fidgety 5 year old would end up falling and hitting his head on the coffee table and lacerating the inside of his lip, falling up (and down) the stairs occasionally, and walking into various objects within the house because he can't see them.
It is, however, distressing to his parents.
I have relocated at work; my old desk was large, but an open cubicle in the direct line of sight of anyone who walked in, which was bad for health information privacy as well as my ability to get things done. I am now in a smaller desk back in the corner, between the optometrist and the allergist, and I have the lion's share of a large east-facing window. When I am at my desk in the morning, I can soak in the sunlight, which is what I am doing right now.
Lillian's breathing has resolved, for the most part; she has an occasional cough, but is back to being her old delightful self. She is enjoying having her grandmother to spoil her; I am sure that as the nanny situation resolves itself, she will enjoy having someone else to spoil her too.
The lice are, one hopes, soon to be a thing of the past. Everyone will be re-treated on Wednesday, and the Wednesday after that. I fully expect our washer to bite the dust; it's on its last legs.
Yesterday in urgent care someone brought in a child in respiratory arrest. It was not a good day. But today-- today the sun is shining in the window, warm on my forehead and chin. I have tea. I have a small quiet space between patients; life is looking up.
Thank you all for your good wishes for our family, for Robin, and for your help when we needed it most.
