Baby on Wire

Tonight is feeling like one of those nights for me. After one of those days. I am definitely not a spiritual giant. More like a torched person in need of twelve hours of sleep and a trip to Mexico.

I wish I could say that Cora turned a corner today but she didn't. Well, she almost turned one but it was in the other direction. I had a terrible déjà vu around 11 today when Cora, who had been struggling to breathe all morning, turned super blue again, stopped moving air well through her lungs, and again the masses of doctors, nurses, and everyone in between, gathered, thinking she was heading over the edge. Thankfully instead of intubating her right away they waited and watched her, and she caught her balance, however tenuously, about two minutes before she got a tube down her throat.

For about the 20th time in her life, all the "code meds" (that's what they call the drugs used to resuscitate people) were drawn up in syringes and placed at her bedside, just in case. As were all the intubation tools. One of the doctors set his chair outside her door and parked himself there most of the afternoon, reluctant to move too far away.

I really don't know which is worse, watching her struggle from the terrible discomfort of being intubated, or watching her gasp for air, trying to make it work on her own. Both are, as you can already imagine, very, very undesirable.

Ugg...

Jason is with Cora now and he thinks she looks slightly better. Possibly her lungs are functioning a little better than they were this afternoon.

If you have ever seen the movie, "Man on Wire," you will understand what it's like to sit in Cora's room and watch her this past week. It's like observing someone walk a tightrope about 1500 feet above ground on a terribly windy day. The consensus is that no one trusts Cora, and she us all very nervous.

Thank god for the amazing nurses in 7 East, nearly every one of whom I would gladly entrust with my child's life. They're like this special breed of super-nurse, they have poured their hearts and their talents into Cora, and I could never even begin the task of putting into words how indebted I feel to so many of them. The only reason Jason and I can ever walk away from Cora is that we know they watch her like a hawk. (One of them was having fun with Cora's new footwear last night and left a note on our whiteboard for us this morning - see photo.)

Still, at the end of these days I am just shot. I had fun with Dom and Cosie this evening, I took them to the park and then we went out for tacos. They delighted me, as usual, but I am just beat. I knew I had lost my sense of humor when, at bedtime, Cosie came running into my room singing "When You Wish Upon a Star," wearing nothing but a diaper and a pair of Mr. Potato Head's eyeglasses, chased by Dom who was shooting her in the head with his Buzz Lightyear Nerf gun, and I didn't even crack a smile.

Ok, maybe a little one.