We knew before we "checked in" that this was not going to be a short stay. Generally speaking, her average length of stay is 7-10 days, and when we asked her doctor what the "usual length of stay was" for what we are doing, and she replied "a minimum of 10 days" we knew we might beat her 28 day stay. We have never had that sort of knowledge in advance, so we did our best to mentally and logistically prepare. It was not the ideal week to get started because of Chanukah, but it was when it worked with our team of doctors, so we obliged. Our first week has gone by with just enough hiccups to feel we are right on track, yet I cannot answer the million-dollar question of "when are you going home?"
Hospitalizations have become part of our family "norm". We have a sort of routine if you will. The experience is sadly, yet comfortably, familiar. The bigger kids get excited when there are no "contact precautions" and they can enjoy the playroom after school or get to watch whatever movie Sonzee has on in her room. They handle it all in great stride and complain minimally in respect to their ages. I know it has to be taxing on their minds and hearts, I see it written in the words on the dry erase door in the hospital room; "I hope you come out of this hospital soon", "I love you Sonzee", and heart and various shape drawings. It stings for a split second and then it makes me smile.
We have met a lot of new staff this stay but have seen a lot of friendly familiar faces walking the halls, popping in, and assisting with Sonzee's care. I have bonded with mom's in the laundry area, we have shared the floor already with 2 other families we know, we got a room with the "bed", our window faces North, and the view is beautiful. There is a constant mixture of feelings because of the situation and because of this journey in general, yet there is this feeling of community and sense of normalcy. I suppose it is hard to understand unless you have ever lived this sort of life, and I am not wishing it on anyone, but considering other variables, there are worse things than living in room 8129.
Mommy bloggers, Join me @ Top Mommy Blogs