I am so glad I didn't do anything to the jerk from Thursday because again while that's just not me I would have thought Fridays problems to be a result of negative karma.
Friday morning as I lay in bed having just glanced at a clock that read 8:15 I thought of how lucky I was to have D sleep in. She is usually up around 7am so I was already envisioning getting her up and taking our time with breakfast and then heading to the mall for our Friday mall playdate and maybe talking Kathryn into strolling around the mall with me to use some of these gift cards I still haven't found time to use.
But then D screamed... but then nothing. "Bad dream," I thought and decided to get up because it was just a matter of time before she was up. But before I made the bed she screamed again. Then a little while later she screamed again and I heard her screaming "MY BACK, MY BACK!"
Dear God she fell out of her bed! She just got moved to a big girl bed (we just converted her crib to a toddler bed days ago). I rushed into her room and she is there... in bed crying. I slowly pull up her shirt and there is nothing on her back. So I pick her up and when I do she shrieks.
This is a shriek that I know too well. This is the shriek she makes when she has a boil. I pull down her diaper and sure enough... a boil. Thankfully this one is towards the top of her butt crack instead of on the cheek where she sits but it doesn't look so good. It's big and hot and red and hard. The MRSA is back. Well it never really goes away but it's outbreak time again.
I knew then my day would be spent trying to soak her in hot baths and bring this to a head so I can drain it in an attempt to avoid an doctor visit... or worse a doctors draining. But right now there is a problem with D and the bath.
A few weeks ago she pooped in the tub and since then has been terrified to bathe unless she has just gone poo. Since her last poo was Wednesday she refused to get into the tub and it was a battle that brought me to tears. I got her in but only for a few minutes. She is just petrified of pooping in the tub.
While all this is going on I get a call from B's school that she was tripped and is all cut up on her hands and hip. I am a mess of overwhelming emotions and still trying to soak D and figure out if B was the victim of bullying (which is what I think) or an accident but even she isnt' sure.
So finally James comes home and gets D into the tub. This is what we see: