To sleep, perchance to dream. Well. I'd usually rather not dream, actually, or manage to forget it before I wake. Which, given what I remember the times I get woken up, is probably a good thing, on the majority. Anyway, I might actually manage at least the 'sleep' part tonight, since Amy has been to the doctor, and the medications she got seem to be having a vast and beneficial effect. Normally, I'm not really big on using such things to treat any little cold; most people's bodies will fight it off just as fast, on it's own, and it doesn't help matters to breed resistant bacterial strains.
However, when someone is in the state she's in... well, western medicine does one thing very, very well. It keeps you from dying (or feeling like you should be dead already). It may not be much on the upkeep, but it's amazingly good at dealing with severe trauma and illness. Anyway... Amy is doing much, much better, which means that hopefully A) all three of us can get some sleep, and B) even if the medicine doesn't kill everything, Amy's body can get far enough ahead of it to win the battle.
The mead, on a side note, is now bubbling away happily in the basement, a bubble through the airlock on both batches every second or two. Just about right for what it's supposed to be at this stage. Maybe I'll have a drinkable (though not terribly likely to be outstanding) end product. Here's hoping.