So now I get to play the "alter his dosage" game to see if I can shock his IBD/CP back into a dormant state before it really gets a chance to get rolling.
The most horrible, funny moment was after I collected some paper towels and a bag, retuning to the hallway to see my mother scraping together a pile of vomit with her foot. "What the hell are you doing?!" I asked. "I thought it was just a really large pile of dust," she said. "I didn't realize it was the cat. Now give me a towel so I can clean off my shoe."