using the it-could-be-worse trick

It's a favorite little mental game of mine. Certainly it helped me feel better in the light of day. The dark of last night and the midnight surgeon (residents, I'm sure) visits left me heartsick and using tissues in the parent's lounge. This photo is really a good summary of our day. Calm and good in many ways: phone calls from darling friends, quiet crafting and stories, and the first food Marian was interested in eating since we arrived (potato chips and ketchup, of course!). She was feeling good enough to be this goofy...but you may also notice her sweet hand carefully held to her central line. It was sore for longer than it should have been, and, sure enough, is infected. The discharge-and-redness signs finally showed up last night, and she's on antibiotics to slow it, but the line has to come out tomorrow morning. They'll place a PICC line during the same anaesthesia, and that should suffice to keep the transplant on course while what next? is decided. We had a may-or-may-not be related blood infection on Thursday that reared its very ugly head with rigors and cyanosis (that's shaking like a leaf and turning blue in the lips and fingers for you lucky non-medical folks) and broke my heart right in two. The shaking preceeded a fever that was caught by antibiotics and Tylenol, and only lasted an hour or so. We did find out that (1) they respond quickly if it's an emergency, (2) 20 people fit in one small room, and (3) their swish-boom arrival doesn't scare Marian. Sweet soul. I was trying to soothe her and she worriedly told me, "I trying to settle down, Mom, but I just can't!" Wanted to make sure I knew she was "good". Oh, very, my dear.

The sweetest thing