Day 3

I am 3 days old

I sleep. But it is not a good sleep. It is the sleep of the drugged.

I go yellow inside. This is not good.

There are bright lights to stop this. I wear goggles. They will protect me. Maybe I will be a skier someday (or maybe a cool-dude Johnny Depp look-alike snowboarder like daddy!)

I sense the serious people around me. I cannot open my eyes. I cannot breathe. Tubes are everywhere. But they keep me alive. I hate the tubes but they keep me alive. Without them I would be gone.

They talk about me.

In serious efficient voices. Sepsis. Ph. Alkali. Acidic. Antibiotics. Oxygen levels. Breaths per minute. Temperature. Sepsis. Sepsis. Change Antibiotics.

I DON'T UNDERSTAND!

But daddy understands more. He is there. He is always there with the serious people. He loves me.

I cannot breathe. The machine breathes for me.

I cannot eat. The machine feeds me. And wonderful nurses feed me. And daddy feeds me. And mummy feeds me. From a syringe. It's not meant to be this way.

I hate the tubes.

But wait. A tube is taken away from my arm. Hoorah! It has gone. I move my arm. Hello daddy I wave. But only in my mind. I cannot move my arm. I am drugged.

The tube has gone. My artery is free. Hoorah !

But wait. What are they doing...... They take blood from my heel. They prick me. They squeeze. They squeeze. They squeeze. IT HURTS! IT HURTS! IT HURTS!

But I am calm. And I am alive. My heart is strong. My pulse is good. My temperature is good. My abdomen is good.

I will get better.