“You guys have been here for a while,” the nurse said.
“Huh?” I muttered.
“She’s been in the hospital for a while,” the nurse said.
“Yeah. Today is five weeks,” I said.
“I saw her name before I went on vacation,” the nurse said.
“Oh yeah?” I said.
“That was three weeks ago,” the nurse said.
“Yeah,” I said.
Avery’s been a wonderful roommate. She generally sleeps through the night. In fact, she’s only fussy when the nurses or respiratory therapists show up in the middle of the night to suction her or give her back rubs. Last night she was particularly angry after a suction treatment. I held her and bounced her around for a while. When she finally calmed down I placed her in her crib. She bunched up all the blankets available to her and pulled them over her face. It’s seemed like this is her go-to tactic immediately following a suction treatment. Maybe she thinks hiding her face will prevent yet another tube from invading her nostril space. It’s not very effective but it’s super cute.
There are bright signs of the old Avery. She smiles and laughs much more than she did even last week. I think that kind of visible progress makes me forget sometimes that her healing process is a tenuous proposition. Just today she’s been dealing with a stomach ache since the morning. It’s causing her discomfort and preventing her from eating. It’s two steps forward and a hey-no-so-fast step back. It’s maddening to be honest. It feels like we’re so close to having her come home.
Avery’s been upset all evening and I’m not Lynnette so Gravy makes me pay a spectacular price when she realizes her favorite person has left for the night and all she’s left with is me. I just put her to sleep by holding her in my arms and singing Steve Wonder’s “Ribbon in the Sky” over and over. I hope she sleeps through the night.
Thank you all so much for your continued support of our family. You’ve all been at our side every step of the way, and I can’t wait for the day when you get to read that we’ve taken the Gravy Boat home.