This is only the first part, or actually, the last part, of the story. Because it's 11 and I need to get my bod in bed.
Let's backtrack.
Two minutes ago, I made myself a celebratory ice cream cone.
Five minutes ago, I submitted a paper to my professor on the poetry of Ezra Pound and e. e. cummings.
This morning, I woke up with a bad sore throat. The two youngest kids are sick, too.
Four days ago, at nearly midnight, I drove home from the hospital with Noelle.
Fifteen minutes before that, I submitted an essay on a story by Earnest Hemingway. I wrote the essay in the E.R.
Almost six hours before that, I brought Noelle to the E.R. for the second time in a week. She had thrown up, was sleepy, and running a fever, so they wanted to see her again.
The day before that, at about seven in the evening, Jeremy arrived home with Noelle and I was ecstatic. We all slept the night through!
Shortly before lunchtime, Jeremy came to the hospital and I went home to "nap." Liam had a fever and didn't take his nap, so neither did I.
That morning (Wednesday), I woke up in Noelle's hospital room after getting maybe twenty minutes of sleep. Then I tried to stay sane with a baby who refused to be put down but was connected to the wall with numerous cords. Bless the nurse who brought me breakfast. I skimmed through the rest of the Earnest Hemingway story.
A few hours before that, they admitted Noelle for a skull fracture and possible subdurmal hematoma and we moved from the E.R. to a room upstairs.
Now that I've got your attention.... Join us next time for the next exciting installment of This is Heather's Life.
