"Good Times!"

When the shit  hits the fan around these parts,  Scot looks at me and says

 

"Good times.  Yep,  good times." 

  Sarcasm at its best,  or worst,  depending on your view of sarcasm.  We don't know any other language around these parts.

Since mid-August,  it has been "good times,  good times" around here.    For the past 8 weeks Nora  has been sick,  on-and-off.  School one day,  home sick the next.  Nothing awful,  but something slightly sinister right under the surface.  .  It started as a fever, morphed into a sore throat,  soon engulfed her urinary region,  returned as a fever,  and at times wreaking  havoc on her stomach.

After six trips to the doctor,  which included blood work and urinalysis,  one trip to the ENT,  and  an X-ray,  we still didn't have any answers.  She didn't have strep throat or mono.  But she had swollen lymph nodes and a fever.  Symptoms of lymphoma.  Yes,  I said that.  Nora's pediatrician threw that word out and for the next week all food that entered my system funneled out my ass as fast as it went in.  I lost my sanity and five pounds.  Last week,  we had a CT scan performed.  (Did I mention this was all covered with our great, new employer- sponsored insurance?  What a blessing.)

On Monday we received wonderful news.  Nora's scan was clean.  With the exception of a few raised nodes in her neck,  lymph nodes were all normal!   It is assumed the neck nodes are a lingering reminder of the phantom virus she harbored.  Her fever is  gone, and she is my plain old , regular Nora.  A vibrant spitfire. 

We are relaxing in the family room right now.   No coughing,  no hot head.   Just the sound of the Braves game in the background,  and the kids complaining of being bored. Every so often Nora comes over the lap top and knocks into my hands,  scattering my type.  What  should have taken me ten minutes to write has taken me a kid-distracted half hour.  

   "Good times, good times."   


And it really is.