If four out of five people suffer from diarrhea does that mean the fifth one enjoys it?
If four out of five people suffer from diarrhea does that mean the fifth one enjoys it?
Around midnight of last night, the wife and I are almost in the throes of deep sleep when I get a call from Carlos, my brother-in-law: My sister is sick--they're going to the emergency room. Thanks to the H1N1 pandemic, non-sick children aren't allowed inside the emergency ward, so Molly and I drive across town to meet Carlos at the hospital, keeping my two nephews company in the lobby while Carlos goes behind the scenes.
Roughly two and a half hours later, we get word that the doctors are calling it a random virus. Pills, IV, no overnight required. Carlos opts to take the boys home. Molly and I go in the emergency ward to keep my sister company until she is discharged. It's about 3 in the morning, so I'm trying to stay awake and occupied. I do so with a WinXP workstation bolted to the wall of my sister's room. That night, I learn the following:
I managed to drag myself to work on [??] hours of sleep. No word on my productivity yet.