Yesterday I rejoiced when he started moaning and fussing, because it was a 100% improvement from being near unconscious. When someone can stick him with a needle and draw blood without him even opening his eyes, it is bad.
This morning he is charming the nurses with his sideways smile and meowing his answers back to them, as if he's pulling off some big joke on them. But we've got his number.
We are in a holding pattern this morning until the doctors can have a last look at his lab tests from this morning. The toxicology tests have become negative, which rules out one of the initial fears that he got into something he shouldn't have.
Last night he ate for the first time in four days -- rice, applesauce and something like 12 packages of saltine crackers.
God has been so good to us. His presence has shined in the kind words of friends and talents and generousity of the staff.
And today -- we will figure out what we are going to do about going home. The oldest two have the flu fevers that hover around 103-104 if you let the Motrin slide by a a few minutes. I don't know that we should let the baby back into the plague just yet. Off to order His Royal Kittyness some food.....