Tomorrow Lemon and I will set foot in Children's Hospital for the first time since his bronchoscopy. Remember that whole episode? Definitely part of the before times, although just barely--as you may recall it was one of the last "elective" procedures they did in pediatric pulmonary before the shut down. Because of it, unbeknownst to us, Lemon missed one of the last in-person school days of first grade. So, now, we will return at last to have his labs drawn, his throat cultured, and his chest x-rayed. Lemon's doctor is all for telemedicine but thinks it is really important for people with CF to still get cultures done quarterly, so that any new bugs can be caught and treated quickly. I am in agreement with him on that, so it's worth the risk and the trip--the risks associated with not quickly noticing and treating a new lung infection definitely outweigh any exposure risk of being in the hospital for a few minutes.
Meanwhile, the little events of quarantine life continue. I took Lemon to the dentist on Thursday, and he was happy to just roll along with waiting in the car, wearing a mask inside the building, getting whisked in, doing his x-rays and cleaning, and whisking out again. No cavities, phew, although lots of plaque. Since Lemon still doesn't eat as much as normal by mouth it has a tendency to build up. But, that's what the dentist is for and makes that trip worth whatever risk we're incurring there, I think.
I took the car in for some standard maintenance this morning, since it was due and I'd set up the appointment a while ago. It does seem a little silly since I literally have not put fuel in the tank since late March, during the brief period when gas was $0.99/gal. But, there is the theoretical possibility that we will start driving regularly again and would like the car to be working when we do.
The only unexpected drama this week was that this morning, I turned on our oven to bake something, it preheated normally, I put the thing in, and then within seconds there was a tremendously loud "POP!" followed by that smell of ozone and melted plastic that indicates electronic death. Sure enough, the control panel for the oven had gone dark and could not be revived. As I'm sure my fellow pandemic bakers will understand, this is a serious catastrophe. So, instead of whatever else I may have had planned for this morning, I fired up the internet and figured out who could install a replacement stove the soonest, which turns out to be a week from today. So, no oven for a week, which I just take as clear indication that this week at our house will be the week of the English muffin, the week of the crumpet, and the week of the doughnut.We'll make it somehow.
