Karen has the TV on Discovery Health's Disgusting Conditions show. She's asleep, so I guess I could change the channel, but why bother, I can't see the TV. We've got Leah's bed set up in the living room. I've been sleeping on the couch. It's not very comfortable, so last night I slept on the floor. When the newspaper came, Ellie started barking and woke me up. I had been dreaming that I was telling someone my back hurt because I was sleeping on the floor.
Of course, just like you can't complain to a bear mauling victim about a hangnail, when your wife is weeping in pain from the headache that may be caused from spinal fluid leaking, no one cares if your spine is a little sore. We'd hoped she'd recover a lot quicker than she has. You'd think she be in a better mood because I just realized that I've been getting up every six hours and giving her her antidepressant instead of her antibiotic. I think that only happened at 2 this morning, but still it must at least have made some bacteria happy. The pills look almost identical, and I was like the sleep deprived interns you see on Discovery Health; like I told one of her anesthesiologists, "I'm not a doctor, but I've seen them on TV.
By the way, what does it say about our theory of medicine that everything we put in our mouths is "anti-" something. Why can't we be a little more upbeat in the way we view health. Oh, yeah, because then we'd be like Andrew Weill and no one wants that.