Michael and the Children's Hospital of Eternal Waiting

Today I went to the Children’s Hospital in Oakland where Baby Mikey is and has been since last night. Tubes in head, baby electrodes on torso, ET glowing heart monitor on toe, and Mikey, still and quiet under the wires. They still have no idea what is wrong with him. Erin and Mike keep using the word lethargic. I told Erin that was an SAT word and she said the only thing she remembered from the SAT was forerunner = harbinger. I remember trying not to fall asleep during the SATs (all three times) and not succeeding.
I wouldn’t use the word lethargic on Baby Mikey. I would use the word inert. Sick babies are so hard to see. Erin won’t let him out of her arms, which I completely understand, but she is so tired. So is Mike. They are tired of blood draws and waiting 8 hours for results. They are tired of CT scans, Ultrasounds, and Spinal taps and waiting a day for the results. They are tired of already waiting for the Neurologist now for 24 hours. They are tired of not knowing, and tired of being tired, and all Erin wants to know is “Why is my baby sick?” and that’s the answer she’s not getting. I wish I could give it to her. And I wish it could be good news in the form of a very simple answer and a speedy recovery.
Mom was there from about noon on. Dad showed up in the evening after his usual hectic day of work. He brought fresh fruit. Mom needs a hearing aid, and I get so irritated, it makes me feel bad, but I say something and she says “WHAT?!?” as if I have said something catastrophic, and it was a benign comment so I really don’t feel like raising my voice and repeating it. Poor Mom. She didn’t start to lose her hearing on purpose, but she is in denial about the severity, and I am in my angry phase. I wonder if that’s the phase that comes right before acceptance or buying and shoving the damn hearing aids in her ears myself. Thin line, really. Hard to say.
Hard to do much right now under these circumstances except get annoyed easily by other outside factors I also cannot control.
“Good night Wesley, sleep well. Most likely kill you in the morning.”  
-The Princess Bride 

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