So, the prayer, cheer, thought for the day is POOP! Mason's still feeling the effects of the ileus and the narcotics that he was on, so he hasn't pooped. Until he does, the food is just getting stuck in his stomach and making him uncomfortable. They've stopped the feeding a couple of different times because nothing was moving, and have started suppositories to help him get rid of what's already in there.
Really, never in my pre-Mason life did I think I'd be rooting for a poopie diaper. Never in my pre-Mason life did I want to have to change a REALLY poopie diaper. But now, in my Mason-filled life, I live for poop. Poop means that he's processing his food as he should. Poop means that he's less uncomfortable. Poop means we are closer to going home. Poop means that he's getting enough nutrition and is growing like he should to get his lungs better. I LIVE FOR POOP!
The good news for the day: Mason is coming down on his oxygen need. He's now needing 1.5-2.5 liters (the safe range given to us a month or so ago). He's much more comfortable in general and even smiled last night and was slightly giggly this morning.
The criteria for going home:
- On oral pain medication (now just on tylenol and ibuprofen) - check!
- Back to baseline for oxygen need (close enough to call good) - check!
- Able to tolerate his food and poop - not yet.
I LIVE FOR POOP!
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