Day Eight-An Embarrassment Of Riches

I have to be honest: I’ve been cheating at the whole blog thing recently.

We originally planned to alternate the responsibility of updating the blog on a daily basis. But my last two submissions have been point form thoughts converted and ghost-written by M, (although I have to admit, the witty stuff was added by me later on..just to give credit where credit is due). I feel that it makes perfect sense to have the English teacher do all the writing, but Melissa seems to think that sleep is more important.

Anyways, I feel shame and I have decided to resume pulling my own blog-weight.

But it’s late now, and sadly this entry will be a little bit of an unedited rant. Sorry in advance. Bethune staffers-- put down your red pens.


Amelia
Sometime overnight, Amelia will be moved into a private room- potentially her last bed change before finally coming home.

From a treatment perspective, really only the NG tube and the Lascix/Tylenol remain. The PICC line has been capped (but not removed as of yet) and all the abdominal drainage tubes are gone. The room air apparatus is present, but is no longer used. At this point, this is the least number of lines in (and out) of Amelia since birth and this is great news because it greatly reduces the chance of infection. It also makes it alot easier to cuddle with her.

We met with an Occupational Therapist and discussed feeding strategies. We are planning to talk to the Conclave about the possibility of having Amelia transferred closer to home- perhaps Markham-Stouffville Hospital- if they anticipate the balance of her stay being more than one week.

I recently received another more chilling piece of information.

Yesterday, as I was being funneled/gouged in the SC cafeteria checkout line, Amelia2’s mother tapped me on the shoulder. I believe that in an earlier posting, Melissa had mentioned that there are actually two Amelias in the Cardiac ward at the present time and both were scheduled for surgery on last Tuesday.

Amelia2's mother told me that on the day of the surgery, she caught one of the nurses tagging her daughter with our Amelia’s surgical orders. That, of course, would mean that our daughter’s surgeon would have received incorrect marching orders as well. I found it ironic—only moments earlier, the cook had crossed my order up with….Amelia2’s. Go figure. An easy mistake I suppose, but it could have had dire consequences.

I wasn’t there with Amelia when they wheeled her into OR last week. This had been a promise I had made to her at the end of every late night visit throughout this whole ordeal. If something had happened that day, I would have been heartbroken. Melissa assures me that she would have caught this miscue but it really doesn’t make me feel any better about it.

Always arrive early for surgery, and write the patient surname across the forearm. Better safe than sorry.

So now reality is starting to set in. How are we going to handle life with such a full house? I keep thinking of something that blurted instinctively from my mouth the moment after Melissa and I realized that twins were on the way. They really are an embarrassment of riches and we are lucky to have them. All three.