Yeah, it's safe to say I've lost track of time and day at this point. Kate took Paige back to the condo last night for a night in an actual bed while I took the hospital chair/bed and watched Ratatouille on repeat with Emily. During the night, we had a parade of nurses come in and out to remove the epidural, catheter, draw blood, take vitals, etc. It does not make for restful sleep. Nevertheless, she's still in dreamland at 10 AM while I get some quiet time with the laptop.
Yesterday certainly had its ups and downs. We got her out of bed and in a wheelchair so we could wheel her down to the playroom. She was apprehensive at best, not wanting to move or get out of bed or stand or sit. There were tears and a lot of "I don't think I can!" Fortunately, she moved past it all rather quickly as she focused on her Disney princess figures, paint and a constant barrage of bubbles.
As day turned to night, she began to complain of pain and we could only guess her epidural had shifted/been pulled and therefore wasn't delivering that sweet, sweet medication that makes this part almost tolerable. It's next to impossible to gauge the pain levels of a three year old, especially this one. I've seen her take some really hard falls and get up laughing. I've also seen our bulldog brush up against her and she cried like he clamped down on her arm. Still, with the help of some movies and the now ever-present stream of bubbles, she kept it together long enough to eventually fall asleep.
It should be noted that while she was dealing with her painful episodes, Paige thought that would be a fine time to meltdown in an overtired fit. This room is about 10 x12 and on the third floor. Going out the window became a viable option after a while. Ah, but we live on to fight another day!
The physical therapist stopped by to drop off a walker. Apparently we're going to try and stand today. Should be...interesting.