"Trouble Comes in Threes"

First, on Wednesday last, Mr HSBoots got a call from the renal clinic after his routine bloodwork, to tell him he appeared to be in "acute transplant rejection". We worried for two days while more tests were done, then they phoned again to tell him to please be in Victoria in a few hours to be admitted there for biopsy and treatment.

I took him there on Friday, returning the same day to be with the kids.

On Saturday I planted like mad. The moon was in 1st phase Cancer, after all.

Today, I packed up the kids and headed back to Victoria. We saw their dad for dinner (he feels fine, by the way - no symptoms) then took him back to the hospital.

While playing in the waiting area, three-year-old Emily tripped mid-run, and went headfirst into a steel chair, laying open her forehead to the bone.

It was maybe the quickest trip to emergency ever.

I've never seen so much blood.

We sat in ER for 90 minutes while they treated a drunken softball player who had stepped on a ball and hurt her ankle.

Em had 6 stitches and a vomiting episode, then I gathered up my poor children, said goodbye to my husband who headed back to the renal unit, and made my way downtown to the hotel.

I broke down a bit at the hotel, crying for a few minutes. I feel unqualified for this job, now. And afraid of what might happen to my children. I may turn into one of those mothers who says "Oh, be careful! Don't run there! Don't climb that!" But I don't want to see her skull anymore, nor that little bubble of fat layer protruding from a 3/4 inch gash.

I got the blood out of Emily's hair, washed her face, chest, hands and arms, and my own face, neck, hands and arms. I got everybody settled into bed, Tylenol at the ready on the nightstand, for when Em wakes up in a few hours screaming with the pain. After a struggle with yet more tears, I fell into an exhausted sleep.

Fifteen minutes later, I was awakened by the sound of something being chewed, right under the head of my bed. When I finally got up the nerve to get right down on the floor and look under the bed, I met our roommate. Just a mouse, not a rat.

But still.

I have just finished moving all our belongings and two heavily sleeping children into another room. This one is across the hall, looking over Blanshard Street rather than the courtyard with the quietly playing fountain.

To add insult to injury, upon arriving at the hotel tonight I got my........um.......well, I'll just say moon dark was two nights ago. If you know what I mean.

I don't know whether the mouse counts as the third of the three, or just as comic relief. I hope it's the former.

For those of you who may know in what hotel I can be found, I'm in 212 now, not 203.

And yes, in case you're wondering, I am worried, nervous, tearful, exhausted, and terrified. I just want to go home.