We've become sadly accustomed to bad news about Babygirl's health. Each time we get hit with something new, there is a process of absorption. I think, for myself at least, that I no longer run through all of the five stages of grief every single time anymore. It's not that we don't need to grieve. We do. We just don't have the energy.
At this point, my imagination sees Babygirl's health as a big dirty pond. We are riding a leaky raft and trying to stay afloat and drain the pond at the same time. We clean up one area, drain it out; then it rains, it refills, and we carry on. Floods come and go. The raft leaks, we bail, mend and move on. And we periodically re-accept the reality of the situation - there is no real way out. As God said to Noah (via Bill Cosby), "How long can YOU tread water?"
The best we can do with any new piece of bad news is to let it settle to the bottom of the pond with all the other muck and keep paddling.