So my jubilation over Annika's rising hemoglobin was shortlived. Yesterday evening she dropped again and had another transfusion.
But the transplant surgeons are happy with how the gaping wound in her abdomen
is healing. I can't call it an "incision" right now; that just sounds too normal, too closely related to a paper cut.
I think my foulish mood is due to the nightmare I had last night, which involved lots of blood and being trapped in a theater that resembled a scary McDonald's (not that those places aren't already a bit scary already).
In the middle of the night I left the room to go get a drink of water, and saw that the dialysis machine had been removed from our PICU neighbor's room. So I smiled a bit to myself that my friend's wish had come true (removing at least one machine before Christmas). Then Jörg brought in the coffee this morning bearing the news that the machine had actually malfunctioned, and they had actually had a very rough night.
Sending nothing but healing wishes to Matthew