Kurt went down by himself today. I've had a very rough couple of days physically and wanted to take the day off. Last night I was in so much pain I was sure my incision was splitting open again, on the left side, which has consistently hurt more than the right, the side the obnoxious attending doctor whom I tried to evict from my surgical team was standing. Three and a half weeks. When will it end?
There's good news, and there's bad news. The good news is Quinn if back on his feeds. His stomach has deflated and they just started him back at 3 ml every 3 hours. The bad news is the concern has shifted from his belly to his lungs. Apparently it wasn't just compression. There might be fluid building up in there. Either way, he isn't absorbing oxygen like he should. He has a new breathing apparatus. I'm not sure what it's called, but instead of a mask over his nose, there are long thin prongs that go deep into his nostrils. No, it's not pleasant, but it seems to be working. He also does better when he's on his belly instead of on his back. Right now the course of action is wait and see. The NP had the audacity to suggest she's worried he might need supplemental oxygen beyond 36 weeks. Hello! He's 30 weeks as of yesterday. Why are you worried about something 6 weeks down the road? Can we concentrate on today's problems? Isn't that enough worry? I have a hard enough time doing that without painting doom and gloom pictures of the future. Kurt was annoyed too that she kept referring to how small he is, that all this is because he's just so small. Duh. He wasn't supposed to be born until July. Small compared to what anyway? A full-term baby? Once again, duh. Others his age? Possibly, but there are factors beyond size that matter. I'm just annoyed, frustrated, and yes, a little scared by it all.