This and the next few entries are transposed from my paper journal I've been keeping while at the hospital. They were written as things happened. It's been a bumpy ride. If I only knew then what I know now.

No Real Answers

10:57 AM

It looks like we'll be here another night from what the doctor said this morning. Boo is pretty cranky this morning. She hurts. She doesn't want to eat or drink at all. She doesn't want to take her medicine. She doesn't want to answer anyone's questions or get her blood pressure or temperature taken or be looked at by anyone. I think she's already quite tired of the whole hospital scene. I can't say I blame her. I'm just incredibly thankful she's able to sleep and has some sort of pain relief.

She's been seen by the rheumatologist who wants to adjust her meds and get x-rays. The doctors still aren't certain what exactly is going on. I know all the questions and procedures are routine, but it gets scary when words like lupus and juvenile rheumatoid arthritis are spoken. I was asked about histories of a slew of horrible diseases I've never even heard of, and all I kept thinking was, She's healthy. My little girl is healthy. Don't ask me those things. But something is wrong, and they have to figure out what it is and make sure it's not any of those terrible things.

11:50 AM

My mom called. The last I talked to her (emailed actually) I said Booie was doing better, so she was surprised to hear we're at the hospital now.

Everyone wants to know what's wrong, what's being done and how Boo feels. I wish I knew what was wrong. I have to explain the details over and over again. It's tiresome.

8:30 PM

Watching her sleep is a mix of worry and gratitude. The longer we're here, the more my optimism recedes. Extra tests help figure out what's wrong but means we don't already know. Stronger pain medication means she gets some relief but that she hurts so very much. An IV gives her the nutrition and fluid she needs but mean she's not eating or drinking. The good is only happening because of the bad. The solutions mean something needs fixing.

9:37 PM

Everything is getting more difficult. Booie doesn't want to take her medicine. I had to fight with her and force it into her mouth. I don't like having to do anything against her will, but I must. As much as I want to pack up and taker her home, her pain keeps me here.

She's sleeping now--a drug-induced slumber.

10:30 PM

She finally peed. It's been 31 hours since she last went, so that is wonderful. How strange to be excited about pee.

She seems better now that the medicines are speeding through her system. She's even awake and watching videos. As tired as I am, I'm happily awake to see her finding even slight enjoyment.

She's not her typical, pleasant self by any means. She's tired and drugged. She's sick of being sick. I'm sure it's frustrating for her that we can't maker it better. Mommy and Daddy have always made it better before. What didn't get better with kisses and magic rubs often got better with band-aids or Motrin. And if that didn't work, a trip to the doctor always finished it off. I think this has shaken her confidence in the power of Mommy and Daddy as well as of adults in general.

It's no wonder she's been snapping at us and refusing her medicine. Why should she keep doing what we ask when it's not making her better? Her child's patience has worn thin, not only from waiting to get better but from our overhelpfulness. Do you want a drink? Do you want to eat? Do you have to go potty? Do you want your blanket on/off? Do you want to sit up/lie down? Do you? Do you? Do you? Huh? Huh? Huh? Being waited on hand and foot is great for a little while, but it gets annoying quickly. Like the poor girl doesn't have enough troubles, we have to bug the hell out of her.

I'm trying not to ask so many questions, waiting for her requests instead. My asking won't maker her eat or drink, no matter how much she should do it. And if she wants her blanket, she will ask. Her bladder will eventually make her pee too. I can't ask it out of her now, like we're going on a car trip. I sure wish we were.