"This is my husband, Michael, and our children, Owen and Eliot. What's that? Ohhhhh. We've met before? Like one hundred freakin' times?"
I guess it's a good thing that my Internet was down for most of Friday because there would have been a lot of *bleeps* and *bleep bleeps* in my blog that morning. And those kinds of words would not have been the best for my old 7th grade students to read. I guess all things happen for a reason.
On Thursday night, Ellie Mak came down with an infection (right after I had written about her amazing recovery). Mike and I noticed that she looked very lethargic - not the Queen Ellie we know and love. We told the nurse that she did not appear to feel well, and to please keep a close eye on her through the night.
Around 4am, Eliot took a nose dive. According to the nurse, she became very pale, couldn't keep up her breathing, and ended up back on the dreaded "we've been down this road and it sucked the first time" C-PAP. Her blood test results on Friday morning indicated that she did indeed have an infection, and she began two kinds of antibiotics immediately.
With all of the bad news we've had in the past few months, we just went through the motions this time. I told Mike that Ellie was very sick. He said, "Oh no. Really?" And then we both rolled over and went back to sleep. It's not that we weren't concerned; and it's not that we weren't sad or scared. I think we reacted so shallowly because we are both so tired - so sick of the ups and downs that we figured if we just stayed in the middle, where there isn't emotion one way or the other, then we wouldn't have to feel the pain when our heart gets happy, and then gets smooshed the very next day. Lukewarm is sometimes the best temperature.