Monday, April 27, 2009

Reluctant Poster

I've been reluctant to post since we got in here because it's been such a roller coaster and I kind of go from feeling whiny to giddy within hours. I really thought we were going home today, had my bags packed and everything. And then the doctor tells me it's going to be at the earliest Thursday before we'll go. I'm so sad, and at the same time kind of relieved. I had been worrying that she wasn't doing so great, but I am sometimes a glass half full kind of person (as much as I try not to be), and so I had pretty much decided that I was blowing things out of proportion.

As of tonight, I'm really glad we're here. She's developed a fever higher than she's ever run and she's been incredibly lethargic all day long. When she's been awake, she's mostly been laying down, and when she's sat up at all it's only been for a short time, like half an hour. I'm trying really hard not to start freaking out. I hear from so many moms whose kids have gone through these things. It's just part of the process. But it's really a challenge to balance my intellectual understanding of that process against the fever listlessness of my little girl. I hate seeing her this way. So cliche, I know.

In the midst of all this I have friends whose kids are going through things far more life threatening, or at least more definitely and imminently life threatening. And they're so generous with their support of VeeGee and me. Truly amazing.

Being in this room, which, fortunately is pretty opulent by hospital standards, is incredibly surreal. I mean, I've heard that it's hot outside, that rain is coming, and yet I haven't been out there. That's so very strange to me.

And these people, the nurses and other staff, come and go and have stuff going on outside of this place that's everything, my world, right now. I guess that seems rather trite to be thinking about, but all of these nurses, or most anyway, are these young cute vivacious girls, mostly, probably more than a decade younger than me. K and I were talking about how weird that is, that these girls are caring for our daughter are about the age we were when we first started dating. And god bless america, I wouldn't have trusted either one of us with a kid's life, like really her life!, for a million dollars. 'Course in our collective hubris (which was amusingly and embarrassingly HUGE) we probably would take umbrage at any suggestion that we were ill fitted to do anything.

And on that lovely reflective note . . . good night.

1 comment:

Ania Vesenny said...

Hugs. I remember the feeling of being in a hospital room--surreal, you're right. A different world, like the outside doesn't exit. Wshing quick recovery to your little trooper.