Christmas is past.
As if it’s not bad enough to feel the post-holiday hangover, I am experiencing it in the Imaging Department of the children’s hospital with N.
He’s having a gastric emptying study. The one he was supposed to have last week before he got the flu. I honestly don’t know why we are doing it other than it will tell us how long it takes for food to go through his tummy and it is the next step in uncovering the mystery that is N. Oh and one more reason, we are getting it done before our deductible resets all over again.
We’re about halfway through the four hour study now and he’s done fairly well. A little crying, a little screaming, a little pooping, a little puking (while we rushed to tip him to the side as he was completely strapped down on his back), and finally a little sleeping.
We return every hour to “the table” to take more pictures. To pass the time in between we stopped by the NICU to say “hi” but none of N’s primary nurses were there today. Now we are hanging out in the cafeteria. It’s strange to be here with Christmas decorations. I spent many a meal down here in the summer but always chose to sit outside in the blazing heat just to escape hospital oxygen for awhile. The contrast in the environment, and the fact that I’m holding N and he’s not upstairs in the NICU, remind me that time does go on. And even if things don’t necessarily get better in the way I define better, they become different and even different is progress.
Here’s the cuddle bug now, if you can find him, all cozied up in the Ergo, and me in my neon pink shirt that M picked out for my Christmas present.
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