This is my four hundredth post on this server.
I thought, for a minute or three, that I ought to make this a momentous post. I mean four hundred. That's a lot of posts. I ought to say something significant. Something memorable -- or inspiring.
That's what I was thinking this weekend, when all I had was a regular yummy post about Irtfa'a.
Then, I pondered the viability of turning this post into a good Mothers' Day Post. Perhaps that would be a fitting post for my four hundredth.
Then my daughter woke up struggling to breathe....so instead of spending Mothers' Day being pampered and/or writing peaens to mothers generally, and my mothers in particular, I spent it mothering. I was reminded of the power of mothers' intuition: I knew when the inhaler would be enough, and how to get a new one. I knew when to let her nap and just rest.
And I knew before she told me when the inhaler was NOT enough. I tried to ignore the warning bells that said "no, you can't wait until the doctor's appointment you made for tomorrow (for other reasons)", but soon yielded to the Mother's KNOWLEDGE that this time, we go to the ER. I confirmed with the Advisory Nurse on call while J got her shoes.
This year, J's lips did not turn blue. This year she was not crying because it hurt so much to breathe. But this year, we got to spend the night in the hospital because we could not get her oxygen levels up to the necessary 94 (to be sure they wouldn't plummet again) without oxygen. At as much as 3 liters per minute at one point.
So. Here we are. In the lovely new pediatrics unit (where they have wifi!), where some 16 hours and five nebulizer treatments after we arrived, J is maintaining a decent oxygen level at only 1 liter of extra oxygen and .... she's finally eating something! They tell us that as soon as she can maintain a good oxygen level on zero extra oxygen .... while walking at a measured pace around the ward, she can go home.
I think, in retrospect, that I'd prefer to have had nothing more spectacular to offer than the update on Irtfa'a. But I'm truly pleased that this report does not include scary complications that make the doctors look tense.
I'm surprised at how little knitting I've actually gotten done, given how long I've done nothing but sit with J while they nebulized and oxygenated and tested her. I've made some (possibly even visible) progress on Chrysopolis, and Sock de La Mer has gotten about half of a heel flap. But really, all I really have to show you are the pictures of Irtfa'a that Elizabeth and I took last week.
There we are: two lovely growing shawls. At first blush, you'd think that there's no reason they should be different sizes. We're both using the same yarn and the very same needles! And, almost, the same pattern. Of course, me, being, me .... I had to go and change things. The lower one (mine) has an extra repeat of the large feathers in it. So it gets to be bigger. I don't think I'll add to the smaller feathered section, but then again... who knows.... that's ages away yet. Well, about 60 rows anyway.
See all the pretty markers?
practically a marker free zone in comparison (and a blurry picture -- sorry). I do love markers... I just don't use as many as E does when the repeats are short.