Son#3, in a nasty tablet-throwing-mother-beating-screaming funk, has been at it for 4 days.
Inevitably, so have I, and we seem to feed off each other's energy.
I went to bed at 7 last night, lest I rip someone's head off.
I seem to know my limits after all.
My mother leaves next week.
It went by too fast.
She stepped into our life with easy strides, but the exit will be dramatic.
The immunologist will re-assess all my tests and PET-scans, ordered new blood tests.
I just need a starting point.
Just a 'this-is-what-you-have'.
I'm a sucker for clarity.