We are almost to the end of another good day. Ginny has been weened down on or off almost all of her medications. Her feeding has been increased to 6 cc every 3 hours. Her oxygen saturations are consistently above 80%. The ventilator is supplying her with 35% oxygen and only 4 ppm of nitric oxide. Cardiology would like her to stay at 35% Oxygen until her surgery, but they could extubate her before the surgery if she can tolerate being off of the nitric oxide. If not, they may extubate her, give her the oxygen through two small tubes in her nose, and replace the nitric with sildenafil to keep her pulmonary blood vessels dilated. In case you don't have your Physician's Desk Reference close by, the brand name of that drug is Viagra....
Normally this is where I would insert completely inappropriate humor. I'll refrain, but only a little bit. The good news is that if her breathing lasts for more than four hours, we won't need to seek medical attention.
Yesterday I got to change my first diaper. I'm a Civil Engineer. I've been to dozens of wastewater treatment plants, responded to sewer line breaks, and seen my share of gross stuff. I have never seen a turd like that before in my life.
Our whole parenting experience has been very stressful thus far. Despite all the stress, we've really had very little to complain about. Today was probably the first time I went on one of my somewhat infamous rants. (The ABG returns.) Here at Shands, they have some of the most intelligent and talented people in the world working in the building. The important part is in the building. Across the street in the parking garage, not so much.
It seems that since Rachel and I were both students at UF at one time and actually possessed a parking pass, our license plate is forever listed in the Parking Services database as a student vehicle. We got a parking ticket on Friday for parking in a restricted area. "This area is for medical visitors only," the ticket read, along with the fine of $30. Today I assisted the Parking Services people by putting a large sign in the window that read: "MEDICAL VISITOR: My child is a patient in the NICU 3." Despite this helpful assistance, I got another ticket today. Of course, the note on the front seat instructing Parking Services to perform a physical impossibility probably did not win me any friends.
The conversation on the phone was considerably less than productive, but we'll get it all straightened out eventually. If this is the worst thing that happens when we're here, I won't complain one bit.