A not-so-encouraging update today. Quinn is back on the ventilator. He had a scary apnea episode early this afternoon and didn't start breathing again on his own, so he is intubated again. :( Supposedly it might help reopen some of his collapsed lung sacs, and then when he goes off again, he will breathe more easily and have better oxygenation. I'm just wondering about my conversation with the doctor yesterday when he said he wasn't concerned because Quinn isn't putting forth a lot of effort to breathe. Hmmm. But this would have happened anyway, and for a more encouraging reason. Quinn will have his central IV line removed tomorrow because he no longer needs IV nutrition. It's all breastmilk from here. Yay! And since he had a line starting in his neck and needed surgery to get it in, it's surgery to get it out again. I'm praying for a better anesthesiologist this time. No more overdoses! I can't take it anymore! He's also scheduled for a barium enema. Yummy. The concern is that he is taking in more than he is putting out, and where is it all? Is there a blockage of some sort? Some is getting out, but apparently not enough. And the theory is also that this will be therapeutic, and clean him out. I have great reservations about this, but I don't think I have a strong enough case to decline it. I guess I feel that if he is pooping, which he is, and he's not uncomfortable, which he's not, then it shouldn't be a big enough problem to warrant such an invasive procedure. But what do I know, I'm just a hormonal mother. Hoping for the best, from everyone involved.

Kurt and I woke up today and said "It's our anniversary." "Yeah." "I didn't get you anything." "I didn't either." "Alright. Happy anniversary." A very strange year. We did go out to dinner earlier this week to celebrate, since we wouldn't be going out on a Sunday, but times aren't what we're used to, that's for sure. Several times since things started going downhill, I've told Kurt I wanted to run away, not to a place, but to a time. And the time I keep coming back to is when we were newlyweds. This is a bit ironic, because two weeks after we were married, we moved to Corvallis, Oregon to start grad school. I made no secret that I hated Oregon. We didn't know anyone there. It rained 9 months out of the year, with no snow to break up the monotony. Shortly after we moved there, I started getting horrendous headaches the could put me out of commission for a day or two. And most of all, it wasn't Utah. Despite the fact that I was born and raised in California, I had really enjoyed my time in Utah during college and wanted to stay there. So why would I want to go back to that time? I'm not entirely sure, but there is something so appealing about the time when Kurt and I were first starting out on our journey together, with everything before us, nothing determined, optimistic about what lay ahead. But whatever we've done together in the last six years has made us the people we are, and made our marriage as strong as it is. I wouldn't trade that. I just have to keep reminding myself that I'm grateful to be who I am, with the knowledge I've gained during these times of trial. If I regret my past choices, I regret the person I've become today. Come what may, we can handle it together, as we've done so far.