Room 10

We've moved again! I suspect we will move quite a bit during our stay here. Apparently we need to be closer to the nurses station so they can hear if any of her bells and whistles go off. They moved us to room 6, which is slightly larger than the broom closet/cell that we were in originally. While I was moving the crib and the cot around with the nurse, I inadvertently burst into tears. I tried to hold them back, but I couldn't help it. I couldn't put a positive spin on this tiny room with no outlets and no space for a chair to nurse my baby. As luck would have it, our social worker walked in to discuss an unrelated matter and saw my distress. She spoke to the charge nurse and had us move to a bigger room with its own bathroom. I love Pam. She gets RESULTS! So now we are settled in room 10. It's not as big as our last room, but it does have a view of the mountains and space for my very own breast pump!

Eleanor did great with all the moving around, probably because she is completely stoned on opiates. Poor little tyke was so uncomfortable yesterday that they put her on continuous morphine. It makes her sleep more than normal and she gets so cracked out when she is awake. She jerks her limbs around and has this wild look in her eyes. It's kind of weird, but it's better than seeing her in pain. She had both a platelet and a hemoglobin transfusion last night, and that has to be making her feel better. Blood products are the best. I wish I could get some - probably make me feel awesome too...

Her GFR (kidney function test) and heart echo are being scheduled for next week, and I am excited to find out how both of these organs are doing. Our oncologist thinks we will delay the next chemo treatment for another week after that so that her white blood cells can recover a little more, but we won't have to go down to ICU to administer it. She's too strong for ICU! It makes me a little sad because I am completely in love with the staff down there. It's not surprising; these people saved Eleanor's life. Sam compressed her chest when she had a heart attack, Mary pushed her through to surgery and Todd, well, Todd was the beast who carried our burden. He was a rock the whole time we were down there. I miss them.

Yep, the hospital is a weird, lonely place where unlikely friendships occur during times of great stress. I feel extremely lucky to have had such great people brush through my life, and they have been instrumental in helping us get through this. Pretty amazing folk, indeed.