Day five is always hard.

I’m sure I’ve mentioned it, oh at least every other time we have landed ourselves in the hospital.

That would be quite alot, come to think of it.

For whatever reason five days in I get a little restless, a little homesick, a little fed up

and I get a whole lot of crazy.

Yesterday was no different,

 okay, maybe it was a little worse.

There were perhaps too many tears,

I was maybe a little shorter with the doctors,

a little more frustrated with their inability to communicate with each other, their inability to see that Ivy was not your text book child.

Perhaps I became more distraught than I usually would when they started changing the paediatrician’s plans:

shortening, then lengthening her stay and finally shortening it again,

telling me I could take her home on oral antibiotics and not listening to my distress when I told them that wouldn’t work,

taking her off the antibiotics for her ears,

daring the universe,

 then reversing all of those plans for new ones, after the nurses advocated for us.

 Bless those nurses.

Perhaps I even  admitted to missing our paed openly (an indication of how crazy I had actually become, dear friends)

 and maybe it’s because I’m not sleeping from stress and worry

that I blubbered my way through the social work consult -

blathering on about loss of control and how crying in front of other people gave me even less of it

and you know, it could have been that Ivy’s little body had taken a step backwards yesterday too.

Too many reactions to new medications,

to many changes way too soon

and I was worried about my girl and worried about the other kids.

Maybe that had something to do with it all.

Like I said, day five is always hard

but today is day six

and even though things are still very much up in the air

regarding our discharge 

 ( at this stage it looks like Thursday might be our day -

at least that is the day the receptionist admitted to the paed’s return from holidays and the day the on call doctor means to speak with him

-  I’m pinning my hopes on Thursday anyhow,

 I guess I probably shouldn’t pin my hopes on anything right now but there it is)

the good thing is Ivy has had a good day.

She has been playing and eating and drinking and her colour is good for the first time in a week.

She’s more like the girl I know.

She feels better and so I feel that way too.

Whatever the next few days hold, if she’s better, I think I can cope with anything.