If anyone remembers Piggy, Jack who can sing C#, Ralph, and the conch, you'll know what I'm talking about.
My baby's got it. Weep buckets. No, actually it's not all that bad. I guess. Wipe tears. I just have to get used to it. Sniffle. This has been the second attack in two months (see Retraction) and I desperately dread another panicked drive down to KKH in the middle of the night.
This time they let us take her home, although they would have preferred to ward her. But we must have seemed sane and safe enough to be entrusted with the task of dosing her every interval with the syrups and inhaler+aerochamber (got cute bear picture somemore). Thanks be to God, she's gotten over it in a shorter time than before, getting in her daily naps, with no other sick kiddies around to contract worse things from.
But we've now made an appointment to see the bestest seniorest specialistest consultant in Singapore (at least I think so) and I'm not going to come away with anything less than the latest most wonderful arsenal of whatever it takes to beat down another attack before it even starts.
Baby's variant appears to be viral triggered, so that'll mean avoiding any sickiness. Tell me about it - this episode erupted thanks to non-thinking relatives bringing a sick child to MIL's birthday dinner. What d'you expect! It's been a week of near heart attacks for me, but they're back to apparent normality again. So I've bought myself a new foundation. Maybelline's Wonder Finish (no la, cannot afford Chanel anymore). What to do. Still must live, right?
BTW with all that talk flying about local blogs merely recording boring personal trivia and contributing nothing to political awareness, well, this is MY blog so I get to say whatever I want on it. And right now, all I really want to say is "Sucks to your ass-mar!!!" (Baby, I mean that in a good way ok, targetting the condition, not you, ok? *hug-bug*)