Abby had nightmares and talked in her sleep all last night. This morning, her entire body was red and itchy, and her temperature was 102.3˚, so I decided to take her to the hospital. She was so weak, however, that I barely got her, through dragging and crawling, to the living room, where I called EMS, who came and got her. The hospital gave her fluids, Solu-Medrol, and clindamycin for a urinary tract infection. They also fed her breakfast, which she claimed was terrible, but which she ate heartily. By midday, they decided once again that she was better enough that she could go home, which I guess she is.

Dammit, it just scares the crap out of me when she is so sick like this. I know it scares her daughter and my sister, too.
As we talked this morning, I mentioned that my presence and presence of mind probably saved her life a couple of times, like when she had pneumonia in 2008, or earlier this month when she became sceptic from MRSA. She replied, “You saved me the day you married me.”
She saved me, too.
I took the rest of the day off to keep an eye on her, and she mostly slept. I spent some time outside doing chores and soaking up the 60˚ sunshine. Buxton the goat was glad to see me and followed me all over the place when I was near the back yard. I gave him the weeds he likes.
That’s how my wife and I spent this February 29, the extra day of 2012.

See this glowing lump next to my chair? That’s the bejeezus that’s been scared out of me by this latest news.