Ian has moved out of intensive care up to the sixth floor of Children's Hospital, which, I take it, is a good thing to have happen. He's still on fifty percent oxygen, but the doctor did say something to the effect of him coming home in the next few days.
Silvi is sleeping next to me as I type, lulled to sleep by her 538th viewing of Pee-Wee's Big Adventure. Tim Burton, you are one twisted individual, but you make my daughter laugh. "I know you are, but what am I."
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3 comments:
I go away for a few days and sheesh. I am sorry. But leave it up to Pee Wee to bring on the laughs. I bet you even find something new to giggle about as well.
Praying for Ian-and all of you.
Hugs.
I'm glad to hear of improvement, and hopefully there will be more soon and he'll be home charming you with his smiles unencumbered by O2 stuff.
He's heading in the right direction.
LA LA BIG SHOES LA LA BIG SHOES.
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