RAWR! Halloween in the Hospital.

Cutest. Halloween Costume. Ever. Plain and simple.

I have been away from the blog while Liam is back in the hospital. He's doing very well and at this point we are simply biding our time until he finishes a treatment. The five day course of inhaled antibiotics can't be given at home so we must wait until Friday before going home. Yesterday Liam was moved out of the ICU though which is a good thing. The Docs decided that he was less likely to catch something really serious (the true fear of coming to the hospital) up on the normal floor rather than in the ICU. Liam is comfortable and sleepy.

Liam's first Halloween was as fun as it could be in the hospital. We put him in his costume and had many nurses visit and take pictures. He was the best dressed baby in the unit. He had fun and so did his mom and I. The costume will be used again during his jungle themed first birthday party.

One of the worst parts about being in the ICU is the closeness to all the other patients. Not closeness in terms of distance but in the camaraderie and bond that is formed between families nearly instantly. Its a small and exclusive club; one that no one really wants to be a part of. Since you can only understand what this is like if you have experienced it your fellow patients families can be a comfort with only a head nod or a wave. And so it stands to reason that if one family has a truly terrible day, we all do. It is very hard to distance yourself from feeling that it just as easily could have been my kid rather than theirs that had to go through this or that. I don't want to get into specifics out of respect for every other PICU family but this stay has been very hard in that regard.

I thought that I would have all sorts of insights into our day to day life in the hospital now that we are back but it is so mind numbingly routine that there really isn't anything to tell. Liam sleeps, and eats, and poops, and not much else. We are constantly visited by respiratory therapists, nurses, doctors, physical therapists, and housekeepers. There isn't much to do other than hold Liam and read to him which I do most of the time I am with him. The TV only has a few channels most of which we don't watch. The windows to the room truly give a fishbowl feeling. As if all of the families are part of a big aquarium for the docs. I keep tripping over the bubbling treasure chest and Karin still finds enjoyment in swimming through the skull's eye.


Side Note about being in a private room at a Children's Hospital: Its hard not to feel like Gulliver when going to the bathroom on a toilet about 8 inches off the floor.