Two years ago a phlebotomist came into my room at 5 am. She inserted a needle into the crease of my elbow like someone had once every few days for the last two weeks. I was amazed they were still able to find a vein. Nothing stands out about that particular needle stick. It melts together with all the rest of the early morning wake up calls that involved someone standing over me with a needle and vacutainer.
Rowan had yet another audiologist appointment yesterday, followed by an appointment with the ENT. It turned out the audiologist appointment was very brief; she did the test to check eardrum flexibility and it was still showing that his eardrums were not moving nearly as much as they should be. She decided not to make him sit through another hearing test.
I recently entered a mini-essay contest for Tribe Magazine. I’ve published with them before and had a good experience. My essay wasn’t chosen — I like to think because it was a bit of a stretch for the topic. Anyhow, I was just reading a blog post about the NICU and its lack of windows, and it reminded me of my essay. I figured I’d share it now. Might as well dig out of the election-centric posts slowly but surely (Though there will be more. Oh will there ever be more).
Halloween is over, which evidently means it’s past time to start talking about Christmas. It’s also still November, which is Prematurity Awareness Month. I decided to combine the two.