Airheads!

11 PM We need air to live, but too much air in the wrong places can kill you. One of the dangers of the machine that pumps fluids into Myla's central line is that it can malfunction and send air into her blood stream. A bubble here and there isn't a big deal, but Melissa just happened to notice last night that over 3-feet of air was being pushed through the fluids line and was mere inches from entering Myla's blood stream. The breath that gives life was about to become the (fill in the rest of this phrase with the metaphor of your choice.) I can't be doing all the work here. :)

Of course, we summoned the nurses who then clamped off the line close to her chest to prevent the air from reaching her. Had the air reached her, the nurse admitted that the outcome "would not have been good." There is a sensor on the pumping machine that should have indicated air in the line--and it often does. However, this incident marked the THIRD time in the last three days that a few feet of deadly air was close to reaching Myla. Thankfully, Melissa and her mom have noticed the problem in time and called in the nurses. My first thought was that we need to change the pumping unit, but Melissa reported that the nurses said the problem is not with the machine, but with the type of fluids being administered. This explanation still makes no sense to me, so I'm going to follow up on this with the medical staff. In the meantime, Melissa is keeping a close eye on the fluid lines. Thankfully, the machine pumps slowly, so there's usually a fair amount of time to catch air in the line. I told Melissa that she needed to have someone check the line at least every hour (or whatever) throughout the night.

Earlier in the day, Raul Matthew and I drove to his pediatrician in Lafayette for his second installment of this year's flu shot. It was a bland and boring drive, but at least we were able to eat pancakes left over from my last class. We then headed to Columbia Park just across the street from Home Hospital where RM played with another boy for at least a couple of hours. This worked out well because the nurse had told us that the more he could move around after the shot, the better. We also watched for trains in downtown Lafayette. We then headed to Olive Garden thanks to a gift card from Phi Sigma Sigma. Thanks!

We've spent much of the last few days away from the hospital as RM's cold has persisted.

One of the positives of this experience has been the opportunity to reconnect with people I knew "back in the day, such as Harriet Montgomery, a former teacher at my high school. I remember hearing that Mrs. Montgomery planned to have Mozart's Requiem played at her funeral. For some reason, this has always intrigued me, and for more than 20 years I have ALWAYS envisioned the funeral of Harriet Montgomery when I hear the opening strains of this music. Now that I come to think of it, it's probably a bit spooky to read that someone online has been envisioning your death for over 2 decades.

Nonetheless, I like the idea of using this music for my funeral. However, I'd like the Requiem to be played using only kazoos.

Lots of them.

And near the end of the final movement, the Lux aeterna, I'd like black balloons--one for each year of my life--to fall from the ceiling around my casket. They will then be popped by a frenetic Jack Russell Terrier unleashed from the back of the church on the conductor's cue. I ask only that this be practiced in advance so that the last balloon is popped about the same time the music ends.

Thank you, Mrs. Montgomery, for your legacy and inspiration. :)