phfhfhfhfhfhhfhffhfhhf!

John took Seth to A&E yesterday morning. He's had a fever for a few days, a hacking cough for ever and was breathing a bit too rapid for our liking.
He came home a few hours later with some antibiotics, two new inhalers and a "virus".
Seems Seth may've inherited the same lungs as Ez. So at present, breakfast and dinner look like drug time in the hospital. Our children breathe into matching spacers, with multicoloured inhalers and we spend most nights listening for wheezing and coughing (or no wheezing and coughing- and indeed breath.) Syrupy synthetic fruit flavoured medicines are spooned and syringed into their mouths, and as neither has much of an appetite at the moment- they'll probably be shocked to taste real food when they're well again. Plus I'm topping them up with fresh fruit juice and vitimins.
They're mostly caged, playing with their toys and watching DVD's as its bitter outside and a trip to the swings leaves them both tearful. Except when I'm dragging them around the supermarket or (indoor) shopping mall.
These bloody viruses are ravaging my children. My mother-in-law is starting to question our living conditions (is your house damp?) and I am torn between getting on with life and hysteria.
In addition to my children's ill health, our washing machine is broken, John's lost his mobile phone and I don't have a pair of shoes to wear tomorrow night for my birthday night out with my gals.