SO...I finally have time to pay my little nephew a visit in Texas. and Sunday, the night before I go down, Michael isn't feeling well. My sister and brother in law bring him to PICU, as he knows all the doctors and nurses there, and they know him (and adore him). PICU tells them he should stay overnight at least. run some tests, yadda yadda, I fly down...and as I'm flying down he apparently had an episode with his pulimnary hypertension. One night's stay turns into another, while the PICU near my sister contacts the pulminary hypertension specialist in Housten (who specializes in pediatrics).
I stay one night at my sister's house, met her rotty, her 3 cats. (two of which were for unknown reasons...blue. I wish I were joking. They managed to get into some chemical and one was half blue, and the other's head was blue.) They looked nice. It was a pretty aquamarine type blue. I couldn't get any good pictures because of lighting but take my word for it...blue cats are the shit.
That was Monday. Tuesday we get a call from the PICU near my sister, saying Housten agreed to let Michael come up to be checked up on, sooner better than later because he wasn't in a state of emergency at the moment, and the docs could get a pretty fair assessment of the situation. They send a team and do a low altitude flight up to Housten with my sister and Michael on board, while my brother in law, Bobby and I drive up all the way from Corpus Christi.
About 20 minutes into the drive the general blah-ness I was feeling that I just blamed on the shitty flights down to see them, turned into a general achy-ness...and a loss of appetite...and my throat was getting sore...and that's when I thought to myself "Shit...I'm getting sick." Sure enough...I did get sick. We managed to get to Housten after about 4 or 5 hours of driving through backroads that made us think none-too-friendly thoughts about the inhabitants. (See Texas Chainsaw Massacre for more info)
Get to Housten, the pediatric hospital there is a freaking mess. It's ENORMOUS. Check up on Michael, he's doing pretty good, Bobby and I go out to look for some cold medicine and a hotel. about 2 hours later we come back after finding a walmart (where as I was stumbling by myself to the cold medicines I got called a "pussaaay" by some mexican shithead who was with a solid half dozen of his friends (even as sick as I was if he wasn't I'd knocked him on his ass normally)...who I thoroughly ignored, stumbled past and grabbed a handful of cold meds.
Wednesday...I was in bed all day. Reading. Watching movies. Sleeping. Ate a single serving of soup.
Thursday...listened to Bobby argue with the airline about my connecting flight and plain ticket. Saw Michael again told him I'd see him later, waved goodbye to my sister, and went to Housten airport by myself. Flight home I watched "Dan in Real Life" which I thought was good...but not great.
Got home, took some cold meds, said hello to my cats (Buster the little shit...wouldn't come near my until this morning...). Watched Evil Dead, and more or less slept until 4am.
All in all...not my best vacation (nor my worst) ever.
I stay one night at my sister's house, met her rotty, her 3 cats. (two of which were for unknown reasons...blue. I wish I were joking. They managed to get into some chemical and one was half blue, and the other's head was blue.) They looked nice. It was a pretty aquamarine type blue. I couldn't get any good pictures because of lighting but take my word for it...blue cats are the shit.
That was Monday. Tuesday we get a call from the PICU near my sister, saying Housten agreed to let Michael come up to be checked up on, sooner better than later because he wasn't in a state of emergency at the moment, and the docs could get a pretty fair assessment of the situation. They send a team and do a low altitude flight up to Housten with my sister and Michael on board, while my brother in law, Bobby and I drive up all the way from Corpus Christi.
About 20 minutes into the drive the general blah-ness I was feeling that I just blamed on the shitty flights down to see them, turned into a general achy-ness...and a loss of appetite...and my throat was getting sore...and that's when I thought to myself "Shit...I'm getting sick." Sure enough...I did get sick. We managed to get to Housten after about 4 or 5 hours of driving through backroads that made us think none-too-friendly thoughts about the inhabitants. (See Texas Chainsaw Massacre for more info)
Get to Housten, the pediatric hospital there is a freaking mess. It's ENORMOUS. Check up on Michael, he's doing pretty good, Bobby and I go out to look for some cold medicine and a hotel. about 2 hours later we come back after finding a walmart (where as I was stumbling by myself to the cold medicines I got called a "pussaaay" by some mexican shithead who was with a solid half dozen of his friends (even as sick as I was if he wasn't I'd knocked him on his ass normally)...who I thoroughly ignored, stumbled past and grabbed a handful of cold meds.
Wednesday...I was in bed all day. Reading. Watching movies. Sleeping. Ate a single serving of soup.
Thursday...listened to Bobby argue with the airline about my connecting flight and plain ticket. Saw Michael again told him I'd see him later, waved goodbye to my sister, and went to Housten airport by myself. Flight home I watched "Dan in Real Life" which I thought was good...but not great.
Got home, took some cold meds, said hello to my cats (Buster the little shit...wouldn't come near my until this morning...). Watched Evil Dead, and more or less slept until 4am.
All in all...not my best vacation (nor my worst) ever.