I think I'm getting sick. Robert has the ickies in his chest and I think I'm getting it too. It's hard to tell if it's my imagination or a genuinely scratchy throat. I remember the last time I was sick. It was back in January and I had some mysterious virus that gave me a fever and not really much more. I felt like crap because of the fever. Of course my sister the oncologist wanted me to be tested for leukemia right away. A bit of an overreaction, I think. I eventually took a bunch of tests but before the results came back I felt better. Anyway, my whole point of reminiscing about my last disease was that my father was very concerned about me. He'd call a couple of times a day to see how I was. He really wanted me to go to the doctor, which was kind of ironic. Especially because during his last illness he refused to go to the doctor and/or the hospital. He was incredibly stubborn. Eventually, my sister and mother was able to talk to his doctor who ordered a chest X-ray and that day he was admitted. That was the night he had his first respiratory arrest. I'm just glad it happened in the hospital and not while he was at home.