Beginning the middle of the night, Friday, Liv and Asher were running fevers and giant, lethargic crabs. Asher's illness seemed to pass quickly, but Liv looked and acted like death. We waited it out, until yesterday when she said that it hurt to pee. Great. So we take her in to the urgent care clinic, which got us in suprisingly swiftly, and wouldn't you know, she has a bladder infection. Now, the dr tried to blame it on a number of things, but I have had a history of the stupid things, and figure it is most likely from her not drinking enough the last couple days of being sick. Anyway, antibiotic in hand, we headed out. Did I mention that trying to get Liv to take anything that resembles medecine is like killing her? That's how it is. I managed to finally sneak it by as strawberry milk this morning, but last night we went through three doses trying everything we could think of, as far as forcing it in her, which I hated, and only resulted in puke. Thank goodness it only for four more days.
In the meantime, Harold was admitted to the hospital Saturday morning with what was later diagnosed as pneumonia, most likely caused from frequent vomiting the last couple weeks. He ended up in the critical care area, but was moved out yesterday, and it looks like he should be back at the nursing home by the end of the week. They have had to up his anti-nausea meds, though, which means his dementia symptoms are going to get worse again. Last night he acted just like a child, which means he was at least in good spirits, but not at all himself. It may be for the best, as I think he can deal with all that is happening better in that rose-colored glasses type state, as opposed to his normal cynical one.
Oh, um, and it is flippin' freezing. It is this time of winter that I wished we had an attached chicken coop with heat. We are going to have to run electric out there sometime this coming summer, because the six week break that the milking goats are supposed to get does not cover all of winter, and I am a pansy when it comes to cold weather and milking those puppies in this stuff? I. Don't. Think. So.