As I mentioned in the last post, I stayed there last night, and it was a hot, stinking mess. They woke up Amelie every 90 minutes for something, whether it was antibiotics, vitals, drawing blood, or general tomfoolery. Each time they woke her up, it took her (in general) 30 minutes to find sleep again.
If you're doing math, that means she slept for an hour, they woke her up. Fall asleep, wake up. Repeat. Repeat.
The docs came by in the morning, and I was a little less than gentle with them about bundling the procedures overnight, and letting her sleep. They totally concurred, and we'll see tonight if they can pull that together.
Amelie had a great morning, however. She doesn't care about sleep. Why would anyone care about sleep?
So here's the promised view out of our window. Pretty shabby, eh?
This is out another window, facing south.
Anya came up to the hospital today with my sister, and was having a blast playing in the "cage".
The top of crib is a plastic bubble. Anya liked the way this looked too....
So. This looks like a strange picture. I lacked a proper black blanket to showcase them, but figured that my sister's black pants would work.
The hair loss has started, and it's quite sad. There's so much power and identity in hair...and so much of a forced acceptance that this is really happening, and its not slowing down. Here's just a single poof of hair that was on Shelley's sweatshirt after they read stories.
Lots of good, some bad. Time for me to sleep, as I desperately need to go to sleep right now.