Another quiet day for our girl. Her oxygen is still staying up a little bit, but of course she's still getting over whatever it is she's getting over. The pneumonia/infection/interstitial lung disease (ooh, new fancy term!). The nice thing today? She was finally awake for a while! Dopey, but awake, and reunited with her dear friend Binky.
She's starting to look and act a little more like herself. The sedation is still heavy, and she's still swollen from having been still for so long, but she's getting there.
I have to confess, though, I'm not at all feeling comfortable yet. I don't mean the setting, I mean Jane. She's just so much more fragile to me now than she's ever been before -- almost visibly teetering on the edge of a precipice. It's not clear at all to me whether she's really pulling back from that edge. These last couple of days have certainly helped a bit, but... I guess I'm just holding my metaphorical breath. (An unfortunate metaphor, but I'm sticking with it.)
A couple bits and piece of normalcy for you all to enjoy: I got to take Jane's temp and change her diaper today just like I used to do, thanks to New Awesome Nurse Alyssa. She's got an eye exam sometime this week (really! alas, no former Dr. Brusque and his awkward small talk will be joining us), and Immunology should start to weigh in with some of the results of the many labs they've ordered. Oh, and the effusive Dr R from up north called me at the NICU today! Isn't that wonderful? She'd found out through someone about Jane's pneumonia-or-whatever, and called me directly at the hospital to check in and find out what was going on. She was very relieved to hear about the improvement, and curious about the ventilation, and just generally her enthusiastic self. It was awfully nice.
And I got to meet one of the hospital chaplains today, who rocked. Funny and thoughtful and interesting, and she gasped in all the right places when I told her some of this story. She promised to bring some challah on Friday, so obviously she will forever be known as Awesome Rabbi Susan.
All right, invisible friends of Jane. Bedtime. Oops, no, one last pump first. (The hilarious nurse who is a primary for the baby next to Jane complimented me on my pumping yesterday and cracked up at my bad dairy jokes; I wonder how I can bribe her away from that other kid?)
Thank you for the support and vibes and prayers and everything. I think of the warmth from you all as the quiet breeze gently pushing Jane back from that awful edge. You're helping to hold her safe, and I thank you for that.