Grumpy

Riley is out of sorts today. He really hasn't said much besides "no," "Mommy" and "I'm sad." For him, these are the toughest days. He doesn't realize that there's good reason to be happy now. He was unconscious during our hardest moments, but now he's awake, uncomfortable and not understanding why Mommy and Daddy are letting him go through all of this. He's mad at us and with good reason. Hopefully he'll be in better spirits tomorrow for his birthday.

In an hour we'll try sitting him up and performing chest therapies to get him to clear out those lungs. Dr. Karl came by to say that he looks good, but that we should be prepared to be in the hospital for another two weeks. The docs always give the worst case estimate, in 2004 we were told two more weeks and it was another ten days. But in any case, we're going to be here for a quite a bit longer.

Finally, in a surprising development the chairs of cardiothoracic surgery, cardiology and pediatrics dropped in this morning along with the president of UCSF. They apologized profusely for the lack of communication, promised it wouldn't happen again and shared a group hug with us all. Tears were shed and - I believe - lessons learned. To top it all off, they announced that they plan to name the PICU unit after Riley and would be donating $1 million in the hospital's name to his college education.

UPDATE: For those who still haven't figured it out, this last paragraph is a (pretty lame) April Fool's joke. It's a complete fabrication, even the part about the group hug.