I was about to write a post (this is Chuck, Lucy's dad), when the nurse suggested we rearrange the furniture. I thought he was joking (yes, he), but he was quite serious, and quite excited about it. So I consented, and my new location by the window has inspired me to write an optimistic post.
I haven't felt too optimistic today. I am frustrated that Lucy is in pain. I am frustrated that she has to remain sedated for an unknown amount of time, despite her constant efforts to fight the drugs and wake up. I am frustrated that the surgeon wasn't able to fix her problem in one surgery. I am frustrated that they don't know what her heart needs to function normally.
But I am hopeful that we will all survive this month. Lucy is pink. She is starting to get rid of some of the excess fluid. Today was a rough day for her, but the calmness of the night shift has been therapeutic, and she requires fewer drugs to keep her calm.
Sometimes all we need is time and a new point of view to see the situation a little better.
(And thus ends my attempt to be as profound as Eliza).