Well, it’s been a boring day, thus another entry.
Last night was a Cough Opera from Esteban. Poor guy. He had enough Robetussin in his blood stream to make Keith Moon jealous but it still didn’t help. We were thinking of taking him to the emergency room, but at that moment, it was bar time on a Saturday night and he didn’t want to sit there all night.
So we went this morning to First Care. They took a chest x-ray and then made him do a breathing treatment! HA! Now the bastard knows what Asthma is like! HAHA!
Ok, that was nasty of me. But still.
Prognosis is good. He must take two pills once a day. He’s also been given some hella cough syrup. Like, don’t drive, operate heavy machinery, microwave ovens, remote controls, toilet seats, etc. Why don’t they just put a label on it that reads: “Caution: this will put you into a drool-inducing coma. Take dosage in bed because you won’t make it there if you take in the kitchen over the sink. Cancel all appointments for several days, your butt will be watching Jerry Springer in a codeine haze for the next 48 hours.”
If you’ve never had a breathing treatment, just let me say this. The taste is similiar to walking up to the backside of a horse, opening your yawp and letting the horse pooh into it. Of course, I’m not recommending that as it would have no breathing value. That’s what the taste is like. But it knocks the butt off the cat for opening up your lungs. Didn’t help Esteban though. He’s got a sinusy bronchitis. So glad we didn’t go camping. They don’t have little conveniences like emergency rooms up there.
Joel and Cheri went camping anyway. They say that they’re having a grand time.
Forecast in Manitowish Waters last night showed a violent cell of thunderstorms. Who’s the Woman? Who. Is. The. Woman?
Apparently, we’re going to try to go camping in two weeks. Yikes.
Yikes I say.
