what day is it?

Day.....what?

Tomorrow we will have been here for 2 weeks.
I am sitting in the waiting room alone while Sophie is having her THIRD procedure. Surgery guided by radiology. 3 incisions. One incision is dangerously close to her sciatic nerve. I am a mess. A stress mess.

Sophie keeps getting sent down to the dungeon - oops - I mean basement - of Cedars. This is where trolls operate the giant sci-fi looking CT scan machines. And other instruments of torture.
She is being VERY brave.

After this third 'procedure'. She will have either 3 or 4 plastic tubes sticking out of her abdomen to drain the infectious mess out of her body.

I am experiencing empathy pains. When her stomach hurts, mine does, too. When she is nauseous, I am, too. When she is so exhausted she doesn't even wake up to have her finger pricked, I am in the same state. As if a big, heavy blanket of sleep has been pulled over me and I can't get out from under it. And the last couple of days, I have watched Sophie's face become thinner than ever, and her eyes look bigger and bigger. I told her that she looks like a baby owl.
Then, today, when I looked into the mirror, I saw that my eyes looked bigger, too. Rimmed with dark circles. Now I look like a mamma owl.

Sophie has requested that I write about the time we went to the piano bar in NYC. So - OF COURSE - I shall. Happier days.