Today was so much better than yesterday. At least there weren't any painful tests to go through. It was just waiting. And waiting. And waiting.
Lucy is currently on a saline drip and some kick-butt broad spectrum antibiotics that she gets a dose of every 24 hours. And boy, there must be some good stuff in there because she hasn't run a fever for 13 hours now!
They told us in the ER that we'd get the test results by this morning. Evidently that was a ruse to get us to agree to all of it and be admitted and whatnot. The night nurse just told me that we won't know until probably tomorrow afternoon.
What we do know is that nothing big and nasty has grown in any of her cultures so far, and if it were a big nasty infection, whatever big nasty things would probably have grown by now. That's as close as we're going to get to any positive feedback right now.
And that's ok with me. Lucy looks like she's feeling considerably better. She's being more ornery and very vocal about her preferences to be held, not to have a cold bum, to eat - NOW, etc. And I didn't think it possible, but I'm super glad she's cranky. That means things have progressed from red alert Sick to a more manageable orange Don't Feel Good. The White House has been informed.
What? The Bubba and me? We're ok too. Thanks for asking. He went home again for some quality rest and I am sitting awake at 1:30 on this piece of plastic covered plywood that they tell me is a parent/caregiver cot. Whatever. If I get a chance to lay on it, I'm sure I won't even notice that it's not a 5 star hotel bed with Egyptian cotton sheets. Mmmmmm. So far I've gotten about 8 hours of sleep in the last 72. I have a hard time relaxing if you can believe that. A friend of mine bought me a massage in honor of Lucy's arrival, and you have to believe I'm going to be getting rubbed down with essential oils just as soon as I can make an appointment. Mmmm.
Um... Where was I? Oh yeah. The doctors and nurses here at Children's have been incredible. This evening Lucy was inconsolable. I'm wondering if it was just the usual evening fussiness exacerbated by the Don't Feel Good. Either way, at one point the nurse came in to check vitals, and with the swaddling and and diaper changing, yadda yadda, I ended up crying. (I'm tired people.) The nurse gave me a full on big hug and said nice things. At first I was like "Whoa, personal space." and then I thought, "Whoa she didn't have to do that." and it was good.
The end of the story today is that I'm no longer afraid that my baby is going to die. That's definitely a good thing.
Keep the prayers coming, people - we're not out of the woods yet!