Life During Wartime

Our fourth weekend in the PICU is coming to an end and things are looking much more promising than they have the previous three. Carly's night and day were pretty good, interrupted with a few big rounds of crying. The incisions from her surgery are probably pretty sore, but mostly she seems to be bothered by some lower GI pain. The barium that they put in her belly on Tuesday went in easily, but it isn't passing through unnoticed. Apparently when it sits in your colon without any water to help it move through it turns into a hard solid mass, and that solid mass doesn't feel great on its way out. That issue aside, Carly seems to be doing really well. She nursed today for one of the first times in three weeks which is a major step toward home, and therapeutic for both mother and daughter. Tomorrow we will discuss with the team what they want to see before letting Carly finish her healing at home, and barring any major changes I expect that could be relatively soon.

It has felt like all out war here in the hospital for the last 23 days. Carly, Christa and me versus an unknown illness that kept returning just as we thought things were turning in our favor. There have been so many battles along the way I am almost beginning to forget the details. I think that is the brain's way of giving you a break from traumatic experiences. In the last seventy two hours the battles have finally started going our way. I believed all along that we would come out triumphant, only now does victory seem to be on the horizon.

Love, Brad