the plague.

A couple weeks ago Henry got sick.  It seems that when he gets sick, it's often after he's been visiting his dad.  I'm convinced it's because of all the dirty, dirty airplane germs that surround him for the weekend.  I'm most likely wrong because Henry's a kid and he's dirty and I need not complain about the sick because he isn't in school so it's not like he's sick all the time.  This last time was just really bad and to make things worse, everyone in the house picked up his sick, including my dad who had just had open heart surgery.  So the poor man is trying to recover from major surgery and then caught a nasty bug.  When I'm feeling particularly shitty and am hurting from coughing and am falling asleep while reading to Henry, I try to make myself feel better by reminding myself that hey!  At least I didn't recently have my chest cracked open! 

I think we're almost better.  At least Henry is almost better and that's what is important.  Until we know for sure, I'd call before stopping by for a visit.