Oh good grief. Somehow all my posts have gone to Baby Blessingway instead of to my Bad Alice blog. That's because there's a stupid (no doubt precautionary etc etc policy, but it inconveniences me so I'm selfishly cranky) hospital policy that blocks access to all personal networking sites. I'm having to post from Google Docs, and I'm hoping my setting will now stay put. Songbird, thank you for alerting me to this. Let me know if this goes to the wrong place again. I'm afraid I can't remove them from Blessingway until I'm away from the hospital.
Anyway, Firecracker is looking much better but still pretty groggy. No seizures yet. Yeah, we have to hope for seizures so they can get all the info they need. We could get out of here early if that happened. My sleep was just grand. Lights have to stay on for video monitoring, and it seemed like every few minutes an IV alarm would sound. I just pretended to be asleep because I was too tired to move. Firecracker slept through it thanks to morphine. For the most part. She woke up a few times having to go to the bathroom, which means wielding the strangely flimsy plastic bedpan, which seems designed so that your child's bottom can rest in whatever she yields. Everyone keeps fussing over how uncomfortable she looks, because her head keeps flopping down to one side. Well, what can I do about it? She has a mound of gauze and wiring around her head, which pushes it forward. Real comfortable. Now, if they had a memory foam pillow, perhaps it could accommodate this strange gigantic head.
Here come the meds. The challenge is to convince Firecracker that she needs to swallow them.