sanpaku_backup | We'll... meet again... don't know where... don't know when...

Twelve years ago, I was with Ken on the METRA train from Hyde Park to downtown Chicago when the war started. I remember because I said to him on the train, "I wonder if the war's started?" and when we got off people were gathered around the TV sets in the station. Ken was amazed with my fortunetelling prowess. (There was a little more suspense about when things would start that time around.)

This time I was with the baby in a fun trip to the emergency room. After she woke up for a nap this afternoon I noticed that she looked unusually red, and her eyes were clearly swollen. (We've been trying to cut down on her skin itchiness in general with a regimen of Benadryl and vaseline on her face, but she still tries to claw at herself a lot of the time.) She didn't look like herself. The pediatrician recommended that we take her to the hospital if the swelling didn't go down after a Benadryl dose. After being initially admitted, we all waited in the treatment room for an hour and a half without anyone telling us what was going on (monitor clanging out a beep every 3 seconds because it didn't stay on her finger and no one turned the damn thing off). Finally the doctor came and said, yep, she's got swelling and her face is red. Here's some more Benadryl and some prednisone. Good night! I suppose it was worthwhile just to know where the emergency room was, the setup there, etc...

Anyway, I have few thoughts on the war that I haven't already shared here. I'm content to read all of yours, for now.