Stable and quiet
Now followers of my little musings will know that me, and my parents, are fans of these two little words. There is nothing negative in either of them - and that's a good thing.
Stable first - I'm still on, my oxygen (100mls an hour, so ten times the C&W rate during the last part of my stay there) and still seem to be doing fine. They're doing another all night oxygen saturation recording tonight (the so-called 'download' which sounds like something nasty from a sci-fi flick). If I'm looking super-good then they can reduce my oxygen.
And tomorrow one of the outreach sisters is going to assess my new home. This has got Mum and Dad in a bit of a spin as my room isn't ready yet. Just because I looked sick for a while doesn't mean they can slack off on the curtains and carpeting. I expect it to be perfect when I get home. The visit is to make sure it will be OK for my oxygen bottles. These are rather huge and heavy apparently. So while I will be at home (yippee), I won't be doing any big trips to see anyone else.
The second word was quiet. And that's because, at last, everyone is realising what a fantastically good natured little chap I am. I've known this from the start but my parents are beginning to catch up. It has helped that my room mates are somewhat louder than me. All the time. No really, all the time.
So my lying there looking angelic and gurgling contentedly and only crying when I'm properly upset, and even then only with a purpose (stop something or start something else), is finally being fully appreciated for the wonder that it is. I do have a voice - it's just that I choose to be super.
Oh and Dad gave me a bath today which was slightly scary but at the end he wrapped me in the towel and threw the water away. So the key points went ok.
Love to all,