It finally happened. Not the unspeakable existential horror that I don't really have the choice to ignore.
Sits down next to terrible 8-eyed monster with green skin and large sharp teeth.
"Good morning," sigh.
"@#N#$! heh heh heh."
But the little things that will eventually pile up into some mini-me of insurmountable. It will be the fraction of infinite pain that Bo's death would carry. It's still infinity.
The babies were dashing around the rooms as we were trying to get them to bed, and Jose finally was getting Bo hooked up, and he wanted to keep running.
"I want to keep running!"
"Not while you're hooked up."
"But why?"
"Because you're hooked up and it's time for bed."
The four week course of Bo's second round of antibiotics is finally over (the 1st was only 8 days long). But the combination feels like forever. And repeat cultures next weekend will hopefully confirm that he is finally infection-free.
