Meanwhile, back at the ranch....Mr. P, the big kids, and some wonderful church friends are holding down the fort. Fanny is settling into a little routine, learning to love vanilla ice cream and mooching Paul's peanut butter toast (in microscopic pieces, lest you want peanut butter toast pulp spat out, ick!) The kids are quite certain that she's saying coat, and it seemed as though, while indistinguishable in any language, she was babbling in her play too. I get to live vicariously via Skype, and see her learning to brush her hair all by herself last night.
I've managed to snag a few cute pictures
The nice PT ladies tricked out my chair, so I can lean back a bit. Bibs, while so *not cool* for my teenage princess, have become a necessity item. I don't think she's ever been so hydrated in her life....and she has no earthly clue quite what to do with spit, poor baby! The nurses aren't quite sure but what we should weigh those bad boys at the end of the day & count it for output.
The EEG. We chucked the multi-coloured leads coming out the back looked like dreads that would make George Clinton proud...
So we continue to wait. Prayers for speeding healing, and insight for each person on her care team are greatly appreciated!