At this point in the whole "The King is Sick" saga it's a whole lot of one step forward and two steps back.
We're back again.
In the hospital, that is.
I hate the hospital.
I hate the sick people.
Often I hate the staff.
Like the one today that tried to move a bed attached to an IV that was attached to the King's vein. Repeatedly.
Or the one last time who lectured me every time she came in on how to wife my husband.
She wasn't married.
Fortunately we finally have a set of Doctors for him who actually do rounds that we like.
His GP is awesome and funny and usually very nice. And his GI is succinct and doesn't mind explaining to me, and totally understands that the King is NOT in the castle.
But oh my giddy aunt, I hate the smells.
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