My throat still hurts and I’m a bit weary but I don’t feel like I’m getting a full-fledged cold (I hope I’m right). Barry, on the other hand, is getting slammed with one virus after another – first that flu-crud and now a cold. Usually one of us gets sick after Christmas break, when we have 45,000 students returning from vacation as hosts to fun new bugs, but he’s been ill more than usual this year. I suspect he’s more stressed about becoming a new dad than he lets on. Perhaps women in late pregnancy have enhanced immune systems, or perhaps it’s my prenatal vitamins, but I’m doing better than he is.
What else to report? I have occasional contractions but nothing regular, and maintain my less puffy only mildly elevated blood pressure status. The kid is doing veritable sommersaults in my belly (stretching his legs out). I am feeling good for the most part, but am noticably hormonal. This morning a story in the Wall Street Journal about kids who die at age 11-13 from a rare aging disease had me bawling. It was the photo of the little bald 10-year-old that did me in.
