I have this idea to do two different and simultaneous series of postings…one about the equipment and things in the room, and another about Liam. Both will attempt to go a little more in depth about things that we have referenced or talked about here before – but I’m really not sure how effective or long this experiment is going to be. So we’ll see, and we can always abandon the idea if it just isn’t working. Oh, don’t worry…the postings about the things that you are used to hearing about will still be coming. So let’s begin with a little bit about the artificial sun.

In order to artfully explain what an artificial presence might be, normally I feel like there is a need to define the real item. However, since we all know that the sun is a smiley-faced orange dot with five or six rays coming off of it, there really isn’t too much of a need to go really in depth on establishing a base line for everyone to understand. But, in an attempt to create an artificial one of those, the designers of the Giraffe Warmer missed the mark all together and created something that is unfriendly and protected with a cage.

The Giraffe Warmer is the official product name of the bed that Liam is sleeping in. And this thing can’t be cheap…it’s got locking wheels, two pull-through drawers, a tilting sleep surface, oxygen tubing connections, two spot lights, two ambiance lights, an obnoxious warning light and alarm, a computer system that reads the baby’s temperature, and the warmer that the computer controls. It’s that very warmer that is the purpose of this bed, and it’s that very warmer that has been designed as the solar replica. The warmer is powerful, and does it’s job…the only problem with the design, is that it’s primary focus is on keeping the baby warm – and the baby is located about four feet from the warming element. Here’s the rub: when you (the adult) go to do anything with the baby (change diaper, change clothes, change bedding, etc), your head is somewhere in the neighborhood of 12-18 inches from the sun. This creates a space that is only momentarily tenable, and an urgency to get things done that is slightly abnormal – or you will end up tanned/burned and sweating like it’s summer in the Midwest. I’m afraid that there is soon going to be a single spot on my balding head that will look like it took a trip alone to Mexico while the rest of me stayed in Colorado for the winter.

While we have undoubtedly figured out more efficient ways to accomplish any task when Liam is in bed, things just take a certain amount of time no matter how fast you are moving. And this bed – as perfectly functional as it is – will not be missed.

Where are you sleeping?

It will be noted that ‘where’ is different from ‘how’ and I will answer both. We have spent every night at the hospital with Liam and each of those nights we spend in his room. To the matter of ‘where’: there is a pull-out couch that expands all of the way to the expansive size of a twin bed. It provides a very comfortable two inch thick plastic covered pad that is advertised as a mattress. We have purchased a foam pad to go on top of the mattress, but it now only makes it  feel a little less comfortable. We have graciously been provided one sheet, two blankets, and three pillows by the hospital, and have supplemented some on our own.

When folks hear that we are sleeping here, the immediate presumption is that one of us is on the bed and one of us is on a reclining chair; however we are both sleeping on the bed together – as it provides a little more privacy with a thin and mostly translucent curtain. Plus, it’s been nice to sleep close to each other, although we are again looking forward to the time when we will have the freedom not to be close on our much larger king bed at home.

Now to the question of ‘how’…depends on the night. For the most part the daily emotional toll has been so substantive that by the time it’s time to go to sleep, we actually don’t have much of a problem. There has been the occasional night of uncomfortable and restless sleep, but we are getting by. Plus with the addition of an every one in a while afternoon nap with Liam snuggling, we have been able to do alright.

How is the cafeteria food?

Well, I have learned a few things by eating in the cafeteria. The most important of those things is that ketchup packets suck. As a response, I would like to propose starting an activist organization that will take up the cause of hospital-cafeteria-goers nationwide and push to institute regular condiment dispensers for everyone’s sanity. Who’s with me?

The most useful tip that we might be able to provide anybody that would find themselves staring at days upon days of this sort of food is to actually eat when everyone else is eating. The cooks seem to try to create a stockpile of the hot food, thus creating an abundance of it after the rush is over – and no need to cook anything fresh. Sometimes the timing of everything simply doesn’t line up, but it’s worth waiting a few extra minutes with everyone else in order to get something semi-recently made.

All of that said, the cafeteria is actually a pretty good and cheap place to eat meals – especially lunch (it’s when everything is up and running and is by far the busiest meal of the day). Today’s lunch options included tofu and bok choy with rice, salmon with asparagus, garlic fettuccine, two different types of soup, a fresh sandwich bar, a salad bar, fresh pizza, and a regular assortment of grill food. We have recently seen everything from Swedish meatballs to teryaki noodles – and a lot of stuff in between.

All holiday-ed up and ready to go. We have added a 4th stocking to the mix and have gotten the house all ready for visitors throughout the season (yea, right – it’s as ready as we could hope with a 2.5 year old).