What day is it?

They're all starting to run together.

James is lying in his bed, gaze riveted to his tv, mouth hanging open. The last 24 hours have seen a rapid increase in pace. The PICU doctors rotate as the days go by, depending on who is on call, and Dr. Coleman is back on duty this week. She was in charge of James for several days following his first surgery as well, so hers is a familiar face, and she's got a full-steam-ahead kind of attitude. Breathing tube out yesterday, drugs largely weaned, cpap mask off today, chest tube out. He's still swimming in wires and tubes, but they are mainly just IVs and monitors. He's awake, calm, and adapting well. He's still on morphine, which lends him a foggy and somewhat stoned expression, and his long-inactive little voice sounded pretty weak and sad initially, but his voice is strengthening now and he looks and sounds nearly normal.

I held him for a few minutes, but he was uncomfortable with the change in position it seems, so we'll have to wait a bit longer to cuddle.

Sometimes I feel like I'm in an episode of Grey's Anatomy. I hear a lot of nurse talk throughout the day. I've learned about a few obscure medical conditions that could totally have merited an episode. There's a Christina look-alike/act-alike doctor, and there's an actual Dr. Bailey. Most of James' doctors are fairly young, and look far more made-up and coiffed than me. Even after a 12 hour shift they don't look tired or ruffled. It's baffling. It's like...on tv...