The absence of a blog in the last night or two comes down to the fact that almost jack has occurred. The usually quiet weekend came and went while Monday was, barring the much talked about and awaited biopsy, a non event too.
The action came to such a crawl here I'm sure I caught Lorna checking the cricket scores on a few occasions.
Jovies breathing has remained as strong in parts and frustrating in patches as ever. Her drops in oxygen level and breathing rate seem to be coming in clusters, sometimes separated by hours of perfect calmness.
The docs have persisted with the muscle disorder treatment, and we are warned there will be one more to come. Although they have finally agreed that its looking less and less likely the problem is muscle related...
The much talked about care team has been ushered in with about as much use as a chocolate tea pot. Unless you consider coloured card with Jovies name on or cuttings out of Winnie the Pooh as things that are likely to speed her recovery.
On Thursday we have our first meeting with our designated nurses, doctors and neurologists where we are promised answers to our increasingly agitated questions and grumbles. They clearly sense we are bordering on seriously pissed off as we make no secret of our growing frustration at the slow process. For all the tests and drugs they have tried, we are no closer to really knowing what is actually wrong.
Small things to lighten our hearts and moods include Jovies new optical lights which keep her wide eyed and interested while awake. The emergence of a real personality coming through and our increased involvement in Jovies basic care. The foreign doctor who walks like John Wayne has also put more than the odd smile on our faces too. While in completely unrelated small world news, the mother of todays nurse supplied the flowers for our wedding!
On a really negative note, jovie today decided to soil the hallowed badge of the great Tottenham Hotspur by weeing on her spurs blanket. Bill Nicholson would surely be turning in his grave.
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