C'est officiel: j'ai recu ma candidature pour passer la qualification de type sur Citation C680 "Sovereign". Je pars dans 2 semaines, le mois d'avril sera donc que de la formation.
L'avion est plus grand, plus large, plus lourd que le Citation Excel. Cependant, grace a une surface alaire impressionnant, il est capable de se poser sur les memes pistes courtes que l'Excel, voire a une vitesse encore un peu plus basse!
Plus puissant, nous pouvons maintenant voler au FL 470 a mach 0.80.
Si c'est une bonne nouvelle, ca ne sera evidemment pas facile pour Kate. Florence a eu une infection a une oreille la semaine derniere, et pour se faire conforter, Florence s'est fait porte par maman pratiquement tous le temps. Resultat, Kate a maintenant mal au dos, au point ou elle ne peut pratiquement rien soulever. Bref, ca va etre une semaine charmante qui arrive, d'autant plus que ses parents viennent passer quelques jours avec nous, et que malheureusement, ils sont trop ages pour nous etre utiles!
Hello. How is everyone? Just peachy.
I'm making a now rare appearance on our blog site, rare because fatigue et al. has been pushing the scale toward "gee, I've better things to do," like passing out from shear exhaustion. Hard to say. Better to have a baby when you're still practically a baby yourself? But then money is tight, and you're immature in raising the baby and in handling issues. Better to have the baby when you're older? Then you're comfortable financially and you're more patience and understanding of how to foster your baby's development but, boy, does your body take a beating. I could have been run over by a freight train when I was in my 20's and bounced right back. Now, just getting out of bed wrong can ruin my whole day. God bless middle age.
Ah well. As the commerical goes. Cost of two Advil: $.75. Cost of trip to doctor and physical therapy: $150. Cost of pain to back from carrying sick baby all day: immeasurable. Having said baby: priceless. But I'll tell ya. The li'l nut owes me when she's older!
Anyway, little Florence has had what, sorry to say, can only be best surmised by saying a "shit week." Actually two weeks. Started out with a terrible fever which one got worse day by day. Then her molars are coming early. Then her whole bottom teeth are also breaking through. Throw in an ear infection or two and you've got a party!
Now add a dash of recurrent severe diahhrea, and an allergic reaction to amoxicillin and you've got a trip to ER! Yeah!
So, needless to say it was a bad week. She felt so bad that she had to be held 24/7. I kept her dopped up on Motrin so she could, hopefully, get some semblance of sleep. One night she literally woke up every 20 minutes all night, worse than newborn days. At the cusp of it all, she wound up with a severe rash with giant red streaks over her body (amoxicillin reaction).
Through this all we were having trouble with our doctor as she is no longer working the clinic at the hospital. We were left with this major ego trip who spends each visit telling us all the articles he's published while lounging on the examing table. So I went to one new doctor, who proceeded to tell me Florence was fine since she had no fever. I told her their thermometer was broken, because I read her at 102 currently. The new doctor sarcastically said, "hey, a mom's lips can read temperatures." So I said that a rectal and ear thermometer, which is the best on the market, can. So the doctor took another temp with their rectal thermometer and, ta da, 103 temp. The doctor never said a thing. Plus the doctor said her ears were fine. FIRED!
So, in desperation I took Florence to our personal physical, who treats whole families. I had little hope but was desperate. So imagine, all this running around while she's so sick. (Plus, the clinic we used to go to is 2 hours round trip just for the drive!)
I get into my doctor's office and had to meet a new doctor I did not know just to get her in soon. Loll and behold, in walks Patch Adams. He's terrific with her, spends nearly twenty minutes just "talking" with her to get to know her. He's terrific with me. He spends over an hour for the appointment. He asks my opionion, saying parents know more about their kids than doctors do (is this guy from Earth???). What a contrast to the old clinic doctor who every single *((#& time would talk over me when I would try to tell him how Florence was doing. Well, regardless, he diagnosed a major ear infection, took her off the amoxicillin, gave us a different, non related me, sent us home and, ta da, by Saturday (eight long days later) Florence is happy, active, eating, and her rash went bye bye.
What a (@)* week. Now she's all well. Only down side is that my bad back is now horrendous, since I held her for a week solid. I can't walk now.
Ah well. At least life does not lack for adventure.
And now hubby is home and help has arrived.
Moral to the story? Always listen to your new Irish Patch Adams doctor. And always fire any doctor who you know more about him than he knows about your child.
The End.
Devant une audience qui ne manque pas de s'ecrier a chaque tournant, Florence a decide qu'elle poussera une chaise jusqu'a..... ben jusqu'a epuisement! Elle fait ainsi le tour de la cuisine et a force, je ne serai pas surpris si nos chaises ne finissent pas plus courtes que d'habitude par usure!
