Alright. I've dropped the Boy pierside, I came home, and calmed the crying Kitty. Then I went and threw up. A piece of rice came out my nose, and I feel better now.

The bronchoscopy today turned out very well. Her trachea has a soft spot on one side, and that's what's causing the problems. When she asks more of her breathing, it collapses in, and makes it harder for her to breathe. This should end by the time she gets to preschool. Her stomach upsets continue, though, with puking, icky watery/mucusy stools, and other miscellaneous sick stuff that comes out of babies.

I got as flaky as I normally get when he leaves for long periods of time. But it took me less to cope this time. I feel a bit silly that I showed all of this to my mother-in-law, but she's not judging me because of it. She and I agreed that we wished we could behave like the Kitty- she weeps and wails and threw a fit tonight because she was too tired and cranky and sick. We're too old to do that, even if it would make us feel better about waving the Boy off.

This won't be for too long, in the grand scheme of things. We know that the boat has a shelf-life, it can't be extended indefinately, and that he will come home again before we know it. Even still... I'm a navy widow again for a half-year. A merry widow? Or one of those women that walk along the shores looking out to sea waiting for the waves to carry news of her love back to her?