Kembry has channeled her inner chow.
According to the Urgent Care "doctor", she does not have whooping cough. You see, she's barking, not whooping.
Despite her oxygen being 87.
According to Dr. Google, whose credentials I trust much more, and who doesn't have an unattractive overbite, she does have whooping cough.
A good thing I laid the smack down and was all, "Woman, give my daughter some antibiotics, or I'm going to throw all those little ear thingy's all over this here place!"
And we all know how much they love those ear thingys.
So, after $100 and ten minutes of in depth medical review...*PSHT*...Kembry has "a bad cold." But at least I got a good cough medicine and some not so good antibiotics.
Kembry, with her gracious loving talent to share everything has provided her father with the high fever and nasty "cold". So, he's slurping down soup and being pampered to within an inch of his life.
I need my cousin Abbie's husband up here with two 44 oz. of coke to help me through the weekend.