Weekend

Well, Robbie had a good day. I almost hate to write it down because you know what happens after a good day.


But he did.

He was on 21% (room air) all day. They put him on the nasal cannula for nearly 3 hours while we Kangarooed. Still 21%. He alarmed 4 times in about 9 hours. And really, it was twice, just two times each. And the 2nd set was when I was taking his temperature and had to dig through lots of blankets & a sort of half put-on t-shirt to get to his armpit. And then, it was only down to 77%. (Below 80 alarms.)

This comes after having not been able to kangaroo last night because within 5 minutes of getting him out, he almost steadfastly refused to breathe. After stimming him back into breath at least 4 times, he had to go back to bed. And that was pretty much the last trouble he had. Weird.

Of course, tonight, we put him back to bed about 7:30. Well, not back to bed, they put him on the scale to do his cares and such first. And he puked. A couple of times. And then when she threaded the tube down his throat to suck out his belly, she didn't get much, but at the tip of the tube was a drop of blood. I froze.

She said it's likely trauma from shoving this tube down his throat twice a day. And that makes sense. But I will continue to be freaked out about it for a while. Add another mark in the list of torture.

I will say this. You know all those horrible stories you hear about people doing awful thing to their kids? They used to piss me off. Now they hurt me.

A friend told a story a few days ago about someone leaving her kids in the car while she went to get high. Then, of course, she left with them. So she's driving her kids around while she's high.

I was relating the story to David tonight and started to cry. I just can't imagine risking my child that way. It hurts me so much to see them poking at Robbie all the time. And I KNOW it's for his own good. But to risk him for THAT? It makes me sick to my stomach.

I can't imagine hurting him on purpose. I just don't know how people can do it. I told David to promise me we'd never take Robbie for granted. He said he promised to get a babysitter the next time he went to get high. My husband- the comedian.

Anyway, after seeing Robbie at the hospital today, David and I went out. On a date. To the Melting Pot.

I feel a little guilty about having spent the money but we've been so good and honestly have barely seen each other all week. And we needed a few hours together.

Dinner was amazing, as always. I was a bit anxious. I have a really hard time being anywhere except home & the hospital. I'm hoping it's not the start of some weird phobia. Or at least that it will dissipate when things in my life settle down. I'm half convinced this is probably some weird form of PPD, but it's at least manageable.

And now we're home. I managed to make it through dinner w/o calling the hospital. So now I'm waiting another half hour or so just to call and see how his midnight cares went. Then I'll go to bed.

Tomorrow I need to do about 3 tons of laundry and spend time with Robbie. And some friends are coming for a girls-night-out-at-the-hospital. Which I happen to think is about the sweetest thing in history. They're bringing me care packages of food and going to hang with me at the hospital cafeteria. That way I can be close to Robbie. How awesome is that?

In the mean time, please keep praying. Robbie last lost 4 ounces the last day or so. He did get a bit of a diuretic yesterday because he got another blood transfusion and they wanted to make sure his lungs don't get full of fluid, but 4 ounces is a lot in a little guy. That's like me waking up 25 pounds lighter.

His tummy issues are pretty much stable. Not better, not worse. I'm still freaked out. So please pray that he can keep from getting sick and can put on some weight.

--Trish