The outpouring of shock, sympathy, and compassion regarding Paradise Lost makes me glad for the gift I have been given, for the ability to evoke in you, O Best Beloved, some echo of the emotions that fill me.
Baby N this morning is fussy, moving her leg and arms spontaneously. Her eyes are a dark and misty blue-grey, baby's eyes, and her pupils respond only sluggishly to my flashlight. But she is fussy, and she cries - a low, moaning sound that sends chills through my spine. It approaches, brushes against, but does not become anything like a baby's wail should be. It is a response, though. They will give her Tylenol and maybe something more for her pain, but the neurosurgeons are cautious. I overhear one speaking to the father, still at the bedside.
I'd rather have her awake and crying, she tells him, than so doped up we can't tell if she's waking up.
We are following her only perfunctorily, O Best Beloved; no seizures-no reflexes-pupils minimally reactive-draw a phenobarb level-EEG on Wednesday-callwithquestionsthankyou. My rotation ends Thursday - I will probably never know what happens to my tragedy of an infant. I pray that some day I will see her, and I will not know that this is the same baby whose fingers clutched mine with the weakest of reflexive grips. I pray that then, as now, I will think: She is beautiful.
I had a migraine most of the day; it drained my energy and my emotion. Even Brendan noticed it. There is much to report, but only a few things will I mention:
Last night I had one of my occasional medical consults-via-ICQ. A dear friend messaged me the following: Nykki... I think I'm having an allergic reaction... I itch all over, it's a bit hard to breath & swallow & my lips are swelling... do I need to go to the hospital? The word, O Best Beloved, is anaphylaxis, and it is a medical emergency. I sent her to the local ED, where they treated her and kept her overnight. And now she's doing much better.
I held the hands of a 14-year-old girl who's had an unexpected 80-pound weight gain over the last year, has a hole in her vision, and a 7-month history of headaches, while a radiologist with a fluoroscope to help him drew CSF to test for multiple sclerosis. We talked about country music, boys, and how awful it was to have a father who teases you. Her parents filled out communications evaluations for each of us.
I am still craving sushi for lunch, every day. But where can I find sushi on my way in to the hospital at 0630? This is a dilemma. Obviously, buying it the night before makes it border on not-too-fresh.
Medicine exam scores came today. Class average: 76. My score: 81. I am quite pleased. Clinical evaluations and grade to follow within a few weeks.
And with that, it's back to studying before I sleep early.