We've been admitted. Or rather, The Boy has. That was awhile ago but he was sleeping on me so I was unable to update. And now, finally, he is asleep and NOT on me, so I can share information.
I should mention that the wireless internet didn't seem to be working in this room. I tried it several times; finally I opened a different web browser and in we went! Furthermore, I switched back to my regular browser and that worked too! Hooray! When you really want to get it done, you find a way.
The last post of mine is one that I shall never post again, for fear of karmic retribution. Never again will I say "The Boy's numbers were good" if numbers need to be retaken because that's the easiest way to get them to screw up. Apparently his hemoglobin dropped considerably enough for them to speculate that there was internal bleeding. An ultrasound showed that that was not the case, at least not that could be seen, but the doctors in the department, as well as his surgeon, agreed that it wouldn't be so good for him to be so far away and then have something bad happen. Fine. I'll take it. And kudos to the surgeon for coming to us personally.
Musical Daddy speculated that whomever did the procedure screwed up, to which I responded that the ultrasound showed otherwise and that the site of the incision looked fine as well. My theory was that someone did screw up, indeed, but it wasn't the doctors in radiology--it was the lab tech. The first hemoglobin reading was 12, which is fine for someone not on chemo and stellar for someone who is. More precisely, it is the minimum requirement for blood donation. However, I can't remember the last time that The Boy has had a hemoglobin level of 12 since he got into the chemo process, even after having had a transfusion 2 weeks or so ago. It is possible for him to have bounced back that quickly...but just not that likely.
Adding insult to injury for The Boy was the fact after FINALLY getting to crawl around and play, and then relax and go to sleep, the nurse wasn't able to get a blood return from the port. Greeeaaat. She said that she'd bring in another nurse and if not, call the IV team. The other nurse was able to get a blood return, at the expense of The Boy's first natural sleep since he woke up this morning (or, at least, since he got out of Grandpa's car) because she changed his position several times. One of our buddies at the usual treatment center, who is 5, has a port and sometimes has to "do yoga" in order to get a blood return. Such was the case with The Boy, who ended up lying facedown on my lap.
I'm tired but I just can't sleep. I asked for a bed instead of a crib so that I could sleep in it with The Boy, who, as you know, will not stand for a crib. It's a hospital bed. You know the kind. The Boy was so unsettled for so long and finally fell asleep...facing the wrong way. I'm going to move him...eventually.
This is a pretty nice hospital. If today were the first day that we had seen it, I would have pretty much nothing but lovely things to say about it. The Boy has a great room this evening, at least. Private room but pretty large, with a day bed, private bathroom, lots of counter space, TV, and PS2 to boot. There is food in the pantry which is...somewhere...and (this is one of my favorite little perks) the patients are issued pajama pants to go with their gowns! The Boy is wearing purple jammies with space koalas on them. Love the space koalas, could do without the purple although you know he's all boy.
Grandpa has been amazing. He's crashing in a lounge down the hall for the night. Plenty of room in here but he's not really the co-ed slumber party type.
I'll try some sleep..after I try turning The Boy around without waking him...yea right.