No, this isn’t about a bad pathology report or anything. It’s actually sort of funny. (Just wanted to set your minds at ease after reading that title.)

You know the whole “pee is pee and pee is good” business and all the stars that include wishes for pee and lots and lots of it? Well, he has continued to pee, now filling diaper after diaper. Late last night, after being moved back to our room at 9, he was in and out of sleep, experiencing a lot of discomfort. He kept trying to shift position to get comfortable but moving, of course, caused more pain. He eventually fell into a fitful sleep and I’d been lying on my “bed” (not really, more like rubber bench with sheets) hoping for sleep myself when suddenly I turned and he was sitting up! And crying.

I rushed over and managed to somehow pick him up in my arms, the first time I’d really held him since Monday morning. He was shaking and whimpering, and we finally worked around all the tubes and wires to sit in the chair. He calmed down and we were talking a bit, looking at stars and his lit-up tree. He said he had to pee and I told him he was wearing a diaper and to go ahead. Well, next thing you know, there’s a warm wetness spreading all over me. Soaked, drenched I was, as in this boy can pee. Apparently he’d been fiddling with this diaper (or fiddling with what’s inside his diaper, more likely) and it wasn’t secured on. I sat there wondering what to do next, how I would manage to change his gown without hurting him, what I was going to wear since all I had was a pair of jeans, when it struck me: This was pee. This was exactly what we’d all been wishing and hoping for. I started to laugh and couldn’t stop. And we just sat there in that chair all sopping wet laughing and laughing about the fact that he’d peed on me. You know what they say . . . (insert title now). I got my smile then too, along with some weak giggles.

Eventually I called our nurse and she helped me change him and brought me scrubs to wear. We were then mostly up throughout the night, dealing with one minor issue after another, from faulty IV lines to painful gas-passing (another excellent sign). Finally, we fell asleep squeezed together in his bed at 5:10 only to be woken by the surgical residents (who may have good hands but not the best bedside manners) at 6:15, who proceeded to tear an enormous and very sticky strip of tape off his wound. Not really pleasant. This was followed by a blood draw. I am continually amazed at how quickly he recovers from the many injustices his small body is subjected to.  He is indeed improving: he’s (obviously) peeing and now even pooping (meaning no post-operative ileus!) and his kidney function numbers are returning to their previously normal range.

Mark relieved me at 8 and I just woke up in my own bed after my most restful four hours of sleep in a good long while. Pathology results are due back at 4, so keep wishing — you can now replace your “pee” wishes with ones for “nephrogenic rests” and “favorable histology.” Maybe those wishes will come true too . . .

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