| Time in the hospital. |
[12 Jul 2008|12:52pm] |
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mood |
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 contemplative |
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There is something about being in a hospital where time seems to move at a different rate for me. Being in a waiting room (especially at the ER) is pure never-ending torture, while being in the actual room with the patient makes the time fly.
I've visited the hospital every day since Tuesday. My longest visit was for seven hours. My shortest--today-- was less than two. Sometimes Nikki and/or Adam and I are talking. Sometimes we aren't. During the times when we aren't, I can't even tell you what I'm thinking about. I can't remember. I'm just listening to the machines and watching the numbers on the monitors go up and down. And watching and listening to Logan's tiny body while he breathes so quickly. Next thing I know, I'll glance at the time clock an hour has passed. And the next time, another. And then another.
There still isn't any definitive answer for what is going on with him. If there isn't significant change on Monday, the doctor will start "looking for zebras" as she keeps calling it. We keep hoping things will get better without any zebra searches required. We'll see.
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