Moving

We've been uprooted once again, and are now living in a broom closet.

Kris is obsessed with the Eleanor's numbers on the monitor. He watches them so closely that the nurse called in the cardiologist to quell his fears. She did one better; she discharged us! She still has "bratty" episodes where her heart rate drops suddenly, but it come back up as quickly as it fell, so the doctors aren't concerned. It's amazing to think that one of the things that concerned us so much is taking care of itself. Well done, little (big) heart!

We aren't due to start chemo until Tuesday, so they moved us to 3B, the oncology ward. And, as I stated earlier, we are in a tiny room. Eleanor's crib is stuffed into the corner and my cot stays folded up against the wall. When I pull it out to sleep, the nurse has to lean over me to get to the baby. It's going to be a fun couple of days. Barf. On the plus side, baby girl is free of electrodes and wires. She just has her E.T glowing toe-thing. I'm pretty sure that is the technical name of it. She's also less fussy about how she gets handled, which means her tummy must be feeling better.

I had a dream last night that she wrapped her arms around my neck and stood up on my lap. Eleanor has never been able to bear weight on her legs, so this dream left me with an overwhelming sense of longing. It was like the dreams I had when she was just a wee one in my tummy, and her tumor was just an angry cell. Waiting and wondering what she will be like when she arrives, and now anticipating what she will become. I suppose it's the same for all new parents, being awestruck by each incredible milestone their child reaches. Smelly's will take a while longer than most, but she will get there. I can't wait to feel her little feet step step stepping on my legs. Until then, I'll just enjoy her sticking her hands in my mouth and grabbing my teeth. That's something? She's such a weirdo.