I hope she's feeling better today. It tears my heart up to not be able to do anything about her feeling poorly. Hate that the rest of her household seems to be a bunch of useless lumps of protoplasm that can't get their heads out of their collective rectums. I just keep telling myself that, in the end, this will all be over, and we'll have everything we ever wanted. Just sucks that it seems so far away.
On a positive note: as of this morning's weigh-in? 270, baby. Hell yes.