Mostly quite alright days.
Stanley moved to CPAP on Thursday, after getting stronger each day.
Talked to Doc about Willow’s op. He was very good as usual, giving us all the info, but it made us realize exactly how poorly Willow is. Leela was quite upset by it, and had a few leaky-eye moments.
Willow moved to Southampton on the Thursday afternoon. We went on up there to check out our daughter and her new temporary home. We found the hospital quite easily, but it was very easy to find. Didn’t really need all the different travel hints and tips given to us by the NICU nurses. But they were only being nice.
We got to Southampton and found Willow in Nursery 3 in the much larger NICU – she had a cabriolet incubator, which made it much easier for us to see her and hold her nicely. The staff all seemed very good and personable, but their average age looked about 16 ½. I half expected our surgeon to actually be Doogie Howser.
When the nurses were doing their handover to the night shift, we got shunted out of the nursery and directed to the parents’ coffee lounge. ‘Holy shit’, we both exclaimed silently, as we turned into the room. We’d been warned that the chav quota was higher in Southampton than in Poole, but nothing could have prepared us for the specimen that was sprawled out on an armchair in the coffee room. He grunted a few questions at us, which we answered as nicely as possible so as not to aggravate him. A question he asked me gave away a big clue to his positioning at the bottom of the social barrel – “Do you work, then?" rather than the usual question you might get “where do you work, then?” His partner wasn’t much better either, nor was the smell omitted by the pair of them. We were quite relieved when handover was finished so we could leave that room.
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