In following with the doctor’s permission to let Namine scoot around, scoot she did. And scoot, and scoot, and scoot. By bedtime, she was cranky – not so much because it was bedtime, I think, but because she was in pain. She is still in recovery, after all, and she still needs to take it easy. A little Motrin helped, and she fell asleep with relative ease.
Last night all three of us made dinner. Jessica made huevos rancheros, while Namine and I made the more important part of the meal: cake. We also had parfaits and watermelon-infused water. (That’s just fancy talk for “water with watermelons in it.”)
I was happy to finally be able to give the filthy child a bath again, but I’m pretty sure Namine was happier. She played with her toys, she poured water on herself, she washed herself with her washcloth, and she scrubbed her hair. Something she always did, before surgery, was to pour water over her g-tube. As she did it, she would say, “Ah ee ee-oob!” (Wash me g-tube!)
She went to do the same thing last night. But she paused, cup in hand, looking at her belly sans g-tube, with only a scar to remind her of what once was. She looked at me and exclaimed, “Ee oob… all gone!” And yes, she did enunciate that well.
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