Ethan here again. The weekend was for once, smooth! The doctor's decided to use the weekend as an opportunity to re-introduce food into my diet. Having struggled for a few days on no food at all, and only the D10 dripping in my veins to keep me company, I was not a happy camper! As a result of my crying, inability to sleep, and general grumpiness, my mom and dad made the bedside trade Friday night.
Friday night we started to add the feeds. At first we went 5 ml for one hour every hour. The food moved so slowly my dad thought it was turned off and called for a nurse to make sure it was still running. 4 hours later I was tolerating just fine and they went to 10 mls per hour. 4 hours later to 15, and then by morning, 20. The deal was once I was tolerating 20 ml an hour for 6 hours I could go back to feeding every 3 hours!
All was progressing well and I had graduated all the way up to 3 hour intervals. I was tolerating it just fine and found myself content! Oh the feeling of food in my tummy! How I do fondly remember thee. I can only imagine the wonders of future meals that I may have. Each meal, although familiar, still seems more enjoyable than the last. It's as if my tummy was waiting patiently through the toils of IV fluids and has since pulled away the rug of hunger and .... .... ugh... PUKE!
Ok, so in the midst of my new feeding bliss I puked. Now mind you, not so much to be too concerned about, but there it was. I had painted my sleeper and the surrounding bed area to my immediate left a nice bright yellow colour.
Once dad had finished changing my clothes, we sat together and played on the computer. We checked my sugars following the puke but there was nothing negative to report. everything was still in the normal range and time was ticking on towards my next feed.
For my second "normal" feed, daddy and I sat in the chair and watched Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Not a bad film, although having not seen the previous movies I was a bit lost. Anyway, I was enjoying the film and absorbing away when... ... ... PUKE.
So this one was about the same size as the first, same colour, but now I was upright! PROJECTILE! -- Daddy looked down at me to survey the damage. I had turned another sleeper to the colour of banana popsicles. Dad changed me, notified the nurse of my transgression and we returned to our movie. Miraculously, despite my sitting in Dad's lap, he walked away unscathed by the whole ordeal.
The evening came and went and we proceeded to Sunday. My feeds continued on schedule and now it was time to talk about my IV. They had kept it running at 3 mls to make sure it stayed open and active. Now that my feeds are ok, dad asked if I could become wireless again. The nurse spoke to the team and from on high the orders were written, and so written, it was done, my broviac tube was capped and between feeds I was able to escape.
By now mom had returned to the hospital and together with daddy we went for a walk! With my killer sunglasses on we left the building and stepped into the light. We took a few cool shots in the sun of my and me with our shades and then promptly went back inside. My skin isn't ready for sun... or SPF 30, all in good time.
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