It has been a rough weekend at the house.
It started off with a phone call from the vet. Several weeks ago, we took Q.C. to the vet because she had a very large lump on her side, by her neck. The vet believed it was a tumor at least the size of her head, and we were given the option of an operation, to let her live out the rest of her life (which wouldn't be long because the tumor was growing fast and she had stopped eating), or to put her to sleep. G-Teen decided that although Q.C. was near the end of her life-span (the hampster was full grown when we found her over a year ago), that she wanted to at least try and save her. The good news came when the vet opened Q.C. and found that the tumor was not big, but was encapsulated, so she spent two weeks draining the cyst and giving the hampster anti-biotics. we took G-Teen in every couple of days to see her, and that hampster was running everywhere her wheel would take her. Thursday was the surgery--finally. Q.C. had made it through the surgery and the vet asked us to bring in some more food for her for the weekend and we would be able to bring her home this week. Friday morning, we received a call, Q.C. died during the night. My daughter was, of course, heart-broken, but she is coming to terms with the death pretty quickly.
Then Sunday rolls around and The Boy starts complaining that his stomach hurts. To keep the grossness to a minimum, by Monday morning, I had very little sleep, my house smells of carpet cleaner (those never have a 'good' smell) and the doctor could not find anything wrong...rotovirus, something he ate...whatever it was, after he woke on Monday, he wanted to go to school. To top it off, he requested Sloopy Joe's for supper last night...