Namine is terrified of what hospital staff often call “pokes.” But she knows them for what they are: needles. Needles to give fluids or take blood away. But all they really do is bring pain, so much pain that they send a normally very well-behaved little girl into the most violent of tantrums. That’s not misbehavior; that’s reaction. Reaction to familiar pain.
After rounds this morning, Namine’s doctors decided to let her go home. The only thing that hasn’t come back is the blood culture, and that will be another forty-right hours. (They don’t believe anything will come back positive anyway; it was just another precaution.) So as soon as the nurse brings us the discharge papers, we’re blowing this pop stand.
Namine’s sleeping heart rate keeps dropping into the fifties. This concerned the nurse, who brought in the floor doctor, who called cardiology, who ordered an EKG.
All things told, Namine’s heart catheterization went well. The doctors were able to see what they wanted to see, and we were able to go home by evening. But now we have complications to deal with.
“Wait, put me down!” “No, I need to eat you.” “No, don’t eat me!” “I’m sorry, I have to.” *munch munch munch*
Namine had a heart catheterization in preparation for the Fontan.
I found the image when I searched on Google Images for “base64 encoding.” You really can find anything on the internet.