Doctors removed Avery’s breathing tube in the late morning yesterday but I didn’t want to write anything for fear of jinxing it and/or getting my hopes up. She responded well, and while her need for oxygen support fluctuates, she breathes without the ventilator.
Earlier this morning one of Avery’s doctors removed her chest tube which had been draining the area around Avery’s lungs. She’s still got a small drain in her neck, but the silver lining is hey, we can see her neck now.
I got in to see Gravy at around 3 this afternoon and one of the women in the room was a therapist. She was checking on Avery’s strength and flexibility. The therapist sat Avery up for a few moments and my little PITA Girl just hunched over, wearing nothing but diapers and her resting Murray face. In fact, when I flipped through the pictures I took in selecting them for this entry, I couldn’t stop laughing because she’s only got two looks at this point: disdain or disinterest. I totally understand. If I had just come out of a three-week nap with a bunch of wires and tubes sticking out of me, I don’t think I would smile no matter how many times my fat dad (sorry, Al) prompted me to. No hard feelings, Gravy.
Lynnette and I took turns holding Avery and Madison took turns sighing loudly and saying things like “I wish I could hold Avery,” before waiting a few seconds only to sigh again. I look forward to Cole growing up into a Higa boy if for no other reason than I expect to get the most direct and simplest answers from him instead of the passive-aggressive, beat-around-the-bushy, subliminal-but-totally-obvious *ahem-ahem* tactics that took Lynnette a lifetime to master but Madison only 8 years to learn. So we let Madison hold Avery even if maybe we were apprehensive about it because there haven’t been too many wins around here recently and when there are, you’ve gotta spread the wealth.
I don’t want to get carried away. She’s got tremors and can’t really control the movement in her hands because she’s going through withdrawals. She’s going to need physical, occupational, and speech therapy. But look. It’s Avery. It’s really her.