No pie for us on Pi day. But other than that we can't complain. Babygirl's creatinine came down from 1.7 to 1.2, making the biopsy on Monday unlikely. In fact, they offered to let us go today, which offer I turned down.
Why, you say? Are you NUTS?
Keep in mind that home is four hours from here. We didn't come prepared for a long stay - I have one dose of Babygirl's medication left, an evening dose. We have a two-day-in-a-row run of disastrous readings with no good explanation for why, one day of improvement, and no definitive treatment except for fluid, which she's been unable to manage orally for the past three weeks or we wouldn't BE here, right?
So, are THEY nuts?
Dr. L, the on-call nephrologist, whom we haven't seen since shortly after the transplant ("My goodness, you have grown UP!" was his comment to Babygirl when he saw her), saw the incredulity on my face when the intern suggested discharge. He smiled and said, "Tomorrow is soon enough if the downward trend continues."
I pushed AGAIN for better management of her asthma, which I am increasingly convinced is really the root of the dehydration. Steady use of inhalers have brought that under better control. She slept all day, and awoke an hour ago looking like something human instead of a pale beige zombie.
So she's spent her day snoozing. She's eating very little, but drinking pretty well. I've been reading and answering my phone (seriously. I'm. On. Call. One observant caller heard Babygirl's IV beeping in the background and said, "Sounds like you're busy at the hospital." "Yes, yes I am." You have no idea).
I'll make it through another evening. Even though I'm missing the Ambler Pub Crawl, my Sis-in-law came by with airplane-sized bottles of Jameson, Bailey's and Godiva. Yeah, I'll be okay.