This kid would eat an armadillo if we were in Texas. Straight off the roadside.
My mom bought these little Rice-A Roni microwave things in lieu of Armadillo and I swear I follow the instructions. yet they explode every single time. He eats every 20 minutes is up to a whopping 43,23 lbs. My microwave hates me. I cannot, I repeat, I cannot! Cook a meal every 20 minutes!
I am so happy he his gaining weight. But, it’s like full time job just feeding him.
I recall Nonni saying she just mage giant pots of “stuff” for Scott. But he was a teen! ( where is my Russian Lady? I miss her. And I will be more aware next time around and actually get her name. Even though she calls him ‘Aston’.)
I never thought I would ever say this but I miss the hospital. I had a scare today with his counts being low and I just wanted to NOT BE IN CHARGE. I want to press the orange NURSE button.
If we end up going back, I will be relieved and is that not strange? My mom spent half the day on his room, moving us back in here. I spent the day washing and sanitizing and having home-care, dressing changes, sitz bath, oral cleansing, “please let’s go outside, Ashton!” He is cold. I take his temp every hour. I worry constantly, collapse.
He is so funny with his vocab.
Mom: Shouldn’t we be doing the Chlorhexadine bath? Is today we get the dressing changed? I DO NOT want a picture painted on me. I want to pull off the dressing myself.
Nurse Molly: You can pull a little. But Molly has to do the rest.
Ash: I have to do it.
He literally has to look at everything. He hyperventilates but he has to look.
Today we got bad news as to his counts but so far we are still at home. I need to not FREAK out. I am just afraid because there is a 25 minute ride to hospital and I an afraid for him. I am also so afraid for the neglect my older babies must feel.