One hundred. What's so special about that number, you ask? Well, I just so happen to have an answer. For starters, it's the number of vocal sounds that a cat has. It's also how many zeros you need to make a googol, the number of surnames accountable for 85% of the Chinese population, about how many earthquakes occur in a year that cause damage, and the dollar bill that Benjamin Franklin is on.
It is also how many days old Rambo is today. One hundred. I can assure you this is not how I thought I would be spending one hundred days of my life - ever. I can also tell you that they have been the best of times and the worst of times. We've encountered everything from him literally almost dying right in front of us to watching him blow huge snot monsters out of his nose. The respiratory therapists love it - seriously, they do. They use whats called a 'neosucker' to suck mucous out of the mouth and nose. I'm not gonna lie, once you've used it enough it becomes addictive. And this boy creates some serious secretions. Ben and I will be sitting there watching and waiting for him to blow some bubbles so we can fight over who's going to suck it up this time. And the sound, oh the sound. Pure bliss. You may cringe now, but I think this is an untapped market in the outside world. Imagine how many kleenex you could save. Imagine not having to use toilet paper to blow your nose when you run out of kleenex. Imagine no more dry, raw noses. Imagine a better world!! Say it with me "Neosuckers for everyone!!"
.....I don't think this was my point.
Ah, yes, 100 days old. So I threw a little NICU party. We made mini cupcakes for the nurses and staff (funfetti of course - who doesn't like funfetti? If you don't, please restrain from reading the rest of this and never check my blog again. Because funfetti is AMAZING.) The icing almost got the better of us, but with my mom's and my brain combined we overcame. Then we brought Rambo a pinwheel to look at and a lollipop to enjoy. It was a great celebration. Except Theodore slept through almost all of it. Waking up only enough to show us that he hated the pinwheel and lollipop. Figures.
They are trying him out on the 'trach collar'. It doesn't give him any breaths or pressure. It purely humidifies the air and makes it readily available for him. He is on this full time as long as he tolerates it. This evening when we left he was doing very well. He is very close, barring any unforseen incidents, to no longer being an intensive care baby. Yay! 100 days in, maybe he's getting sick of this place too. Little slow on the uptake, Theodore?? :)
I'm hoping to not celebrate anymore age milestones away from home. But if we do, there will certainly not be any lollipops for him.