My smallest child never ceases to amaze me; less than four weeks ago I clung to the side of her hospital cot with eyes that itched with tears watching my pale little girl undergoe a blood transfusion to slow her pounding heart rate after she underwent major surgery to correct her hip dysplasia. Less than four weeks I lay on my sofa bed beside her cot with my eyes wide open wondering about how she
spica cast
Getting arms like Jodie Marsh…
Nine weeks and three days remaining…
Not that I am counting.
BB and the spica cast are coming along nicely, life is slowly returning to normal again, well as normal as life in our house can ever be.
Sniffing each other’s bottoms
Thursday night is swimming night. The whole evening tends to be a mad panic from the moment the school bell chimes right through to when the last child finally stops rabbi ting on and closes their eyes and drifts off to the land of nod.
day 3: bay 14
One thing they never tell you about hospitals is that they exist outside of time. One minute in the real world is about a day in hospital land; so consequently BB and I have been living in Bay 14 for years and years. The nurses must take some kind of drug to protect themselves from the time tear that occurs in here as they all look younger, slimmer and much fresher than I do.
Gin rummy and a dangling boob…
I am hovering somewhere between the land of nod and the world of sheer exhaustion. Luckily for me my valentines date is right with me riding the wave of knackeredness.