I feel like crap, yo. Not emotionally, like I kicked a puppy or something. Not that I wouldn't feel bad if I kicked a puppy because really who does that? Unless it was a drooly mean hell-puppy that was bent on savaging my ankle back to Tartarus in which case, just to be safe, I might have to firmly shoo it off, possibly with my foot. That would be unfortunate. But no, I mean I feel physically crappy, which is also unfortunate as I've already been to the doctor's office three times in the last week and a half.  Triple your pleasure, triple your fun, with triplemint triplement triplement germs.  The first time was for the standard stomach flu (Chance's).  The second time was for the violent, every-single-thing-in-the-stomach, only-at-night puking that had not stopped after the "3-5 day" flu prediction (Chance's) and a little of my over-concerned parenting.  The third time was an emergency room visit after Chance (do you see a pattern here?) had gone to bed and come out again with his right eye ball completely swollen. And I mean swollen as in the white of the eye was so swollen it was covering part of the iris!  Like a big jelly bubble of an eye.  I had never seen that before.  It kind of freaked me out. I know that a lot of shit on TV is made up but I definitely had a speed of light flashing moment (you know, where the brain short-circuits?) where my mind did the, "Is there something in his eye? Will he go blind? Will he need surgery?! What if his eye keeps swelling up? Can an eye explode?! Didn't that happen on House?" as I calmly said, "Honey, I think we need to go to the doctor." 

You know it's funny, everyone is always really nice in the emergency room. Even though it's almost always in the middle of the night, and it's all about, you know, emergencies, people are very considerate and friendly. Almost like the shared comraderie of, "Hey I'm here with family members in pajamas, too," "I'm going to sneak a snack I'm not supposed to be eating," and "Yeah, isn't that bathroom disgusting? What a grand adventure!", but most importantly, of course, is the lovely bond of sharing germs.  Germs that I'm almost certain have led to the simultaneous floaty, yet pounding feeling in my head right this second.

Fortunately, Chance's eye was simply the victim of a very enthusiastic allergic reaction.  He is recovering nicely on eye drops and Benadryl.  I think he enjoyed getting to stay up late "like a big kid."  It is a little disconcerting not knowing what it was exactly that he touched and stuck in his eye, causing the reaction.  Him being a child who touches and sticks his fingers into so many things.  But at least we now know that his eye won't explode and what to do about it if it happens again.  (Outside of the frantic allergen-eradicating steam cleaning I'm giving everything in his room at the moment.)

Obviously I'm allergic to doctor's offices. Where is the Benadryl for that?                – wg