Just a quick note from moi, home healthcare worker extraordinaire, to vous.
The peeps today are feeling all, ummmm ... how you say? Yes, yes, that's it: Sick ... Ill ... Sore ... Puny ... Under-the-Rainbow ... Wait! What? Oh! Under-the-weather!
My educated opinion is that it is a combination of: 1- last night's pizza (I tried to tell them it was too rich for Dad's tummy and that Mom should really just have a salad, and they should just feed it ALL to the Tillmeister, but no-o-o-o-o-o-o-o ...); 2 - Dad being only six days off the drip and no matter how many endorphins may be flowing through his veins, they haven't had time to overpower Samuel L. Chemo's aggressive presence (that dude can really take over a situation!); and, 3 - a flare-up of one of Mom's annoying afflictions that has her flat on her back with strategically placed cold packs on various parts of her beautiful (she's looking over my shoulder right now) body.
So-o-o-o-o-o, I am on the job, trotting back and forth for Gatorade, ginger ale, fresh cold-blue-gel-pack-thingies, and various anti-getting-sick medications. Those last things make the peeps pretty sleepy, so I imagine it won't be long until I can take a break and join them .... (YAWN) ... there goes Mom ... and there ... goes (jeez, Mom, could you snore any louder?) ... Dad ... ahhhh. My work is done — for now.