It’s early and we have already been up for hours.

Ivy has sorted through buttons and done some beading and now she is threading.

When I say she is threading, what I mean is that she is stacking and sorting the cotton reels.

*sigh*

We are waiting now for her scan, which takes 30 minutes for each view, a total of four and it’s the same deal as a CAT scan.

She’ll have to stay very still for all of that time.

I know she can do it.

She’s just so amazing.

 We have to wait all afternoon until we know results.

I guess they’re really null and void, the decision for the PICC has already been made, I think.

After all, our paed has a penchant for changing his mind.

Ivy is in high spirits, Captain Starlight has been, to entertain her.

The nurses on the medical ward are just wonderful.

We are just waiting.

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I’m not sure if it is the stress or the excellent diet that I’m keeping here, or both but I have the worst heart burn known to man. I am eating Tums by the bucketful and Zantac too but nothing seems to be working.

Not even the glass of milk that used to do the trick.

If you have any quick fix remedies, please, I need them.

Also, I missed Lily’s choir singing in an eisteddfod this morning.

I hate missing things that are important.

Luckily Grandma was there to pick up my slack.

I know I shouldn’t feel bad but I do.

I feel awful.

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It’s Imogen and Madeline’s birthday this weekend and Lily’s two weeks after that.

I have not done one thing. No parcels, not even given the cake any thought.

They’re turning thirteen, so it should be something special but at this rate it will be a total letdown.

They are good girls. They say they understand but thirteen is such a milestone.

I want it to be wonderful for them.

I’m not getting anything done while I’m in here though.

It’s easy to become melancholy when you are stuck in a small pink room.

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Photos.

Of our girl.

She is ours, collectively, isn’t she?