24 Hours Post Op

What a difference a day makes. Henry had a very good night. He must rest the back of his head in a blue foam donut and did not appreciate being regularly repositioned into it. However, with the morphine, his cries were short lived. The nurse and I offered him a bottle at about 10:30pm and he was mad when it went dry. His nurse was concerned about him spitting up while so sedated, so he had to wait until midnight for more. When it came, that glassy-eyed baby clamped his hand on the bottle in spite of his (tiny) blood pressure cuff! He grunted through the first few minutes as if he was sure those two fuzzy Large People would take it away any second. We did our best to coo at him and he relaxed into it.

Chad stayed late and, to my happy surprise, returned just after Henry's 5am feeding. It was nice to lie down for a few hours and feel safe to drift into a deep sleep (thanks, Melissa, for the ear plugs). Bonus points to Chad for greeting his groggy wife with a hot Carmel macchiato! I must have looked a coffee junkie as I stumbled off the window bed, grunted thanks for the familiar white-and-green paper cup, and tried to join Dr. Selden's rounds. Sweet Henry had just had pain meds. He looked like he was at Wimbledon looking back and forth at whoever was talking. Glad his eyes are not swollen shut...yet.

This morning, Henry was switched from morphine to oxidicodone, which allows him to be awake, but comfortable. He discovered that his right big toe is currently glowing red from the pulse ox monitor. He has spent his waking moments trying to grab and investigate it. As I type, he is "telling" Chad that he really wants that light-up toe...and is hungry. Oh, whoa! He just kicked off a probe and was stunned into silence by the new bell sound.

Chad is giving Henry a bottle while the nurse takes out his Foley and arterial catheters. Then, we'll be going UP two floors to the step-down unit! Ironic.