Karma - Brown XII: Hostility in the Hospital

"...and fighting out of the purple corner, with an unblemished record and all wins by knockout, Karma!"

I'll sugar coat it for the benefit of my loyal readers: this morning has been wretched. Molly stopped throwing up around 10:30 last night, and slept well after about 12:30. She woke up alert around 6:45. Since 8:30 she has been crying.

She just settled down a few minutes ago, but she is not sleeping so I expect an interruption to the silence. She seems fairly comfortable now, but the loose coughs upset her and then it takes her a while to settle in. Her fever is back. She is off food again after being on briefly this morning. Her heart rate is steady; she is on room air, with the cannula blowing one liter gently in her direction; pulse/ox hovering around 80 (as long as she is over 75 the doctors are satisfied).

The kicker is that I feel terrible. I know I said I would not respond to anything short of a "Code Orange", but, of course, that was not taking into consideration the fact that I could be the "Code Purple". They haven't called it yet, but the nurse is clearly keeping an eye on me. In our ongoing battle, Karma came out swinging this morning and has me light-headed and incredibly nauseated. If I could keep my mitts up long enough to be defensive I might stand a chance. But I am pretty much just hanging in there hoping for a bell. Otherwise the knockout punch is coming.

The good news is that the bed is hard as a rock and the shower is a few inches bigger than I am. So I have no chance of getting the things that typically make one feel better.

Freakin' Karma.

Late Night Molly Update

Molly had a pretty good day today. I got here at about 6 pm and got the full download from the day time nurse.

So far tonight she's had a rough time. Oddly, she's been throwing up a lot.

The doctors have decided to discontinue her feeds for now in hopes that she'll stop. Her cough is pretty loose, so it may be that that's upsetting her stomach. Her lungs sound really clear, however, so it seems the coughing is helping.

She's on the nasal cannula and her numbers are good. They're going to let her sleep with that cannula, as opposed to the CPAP, and see how things go.

Right now she is coolin' in her bouncy chair, which is in the crib, and watching her mobile that we brought from home. I am not sure why she won't go to sleep, but she won't. And if she keeps coughing and chucking, I won't either.

There were two separate "Code Purple" calls a little while ago. Both on this floor; on the other side. I came to find out that Purple is for something happening to someone who is not a patient. The two calls were unrelated to one another, and in very close proximity. Maybe they both had the fish for dinner? "Code Orange" is a bomb threat. So while I am concerned for the two Purples, and I hope they're ok, I won't be reacting to anything short of an Orange.

You Might Live in a Hospital If - You Have a Rating System

When you go to Vegas you want to stay on the Strip, and if possible in a five-star hotel. If you're trying to impress a girl, or a client, you take them to a five-star restaurant. Some people [not us] spend their honeymoon at a five-star resort. Titanic was rated by many, not me I refuse to see it, to be a five-star film. Seems to make sense that five stars is the most you can get, and to get five you have to be good.

So for the sake of competition, let's get some ratings out there. I'm going to tell you who has the best and worst of everything from pillows to paninis. We'll rate all kinds of things from the four hospitals we have visited since Molly was born in August. At the end we'll add up all the stars and see what we find. To make it easier on me I'm using a four-star system and ranking them against one another. Four is the best and one is the worst; anything in between is just in between.

Category: General

Parking - it's easy to find parking at all four places and there are an adequate number of spaces in all four places as well. I've never been unable to find a spot in any of them. Visitors, on the other hand, find it more difficult to park in some than others. RWJ validates for $2; CHoP $3, but their rates are far higher; Princeton ocassionally has no attendant so it's free; St. Peter's garage is the most accessible.

****SP - Close proximity to the hospital; validation; good rates for those who can't (or forget to) get validated.
***UMCP - Close to hospital; plenty of spaces; good rates; chance for free exit.
**RWJ - Pretty far from hospital; good validation; decent rates; limited spaces.
*CHoP - Really far from hospital; good validation; expensive rates; limited spaces; bizarre phenomenon where it might take 20 minutes to get through the line to exit the lot.

Security - The strange thing about all these hospitals is none of them are in particularly nice neighborhoods. Even UMCP, which is in the town of Princeton, is in the least attractive part of town. So security could be an issue. Some of these places have a human presence, others have electronic security, some have pretty much nothing.

****CHoP - They'd get more stars if I were giving out more than four. You can't get anywhere in the building without showing your bracelet. Someone checks you at every door and before entering any elevator.
***RWJ - There is a security person at the main entrance, but you don't have to check in with them or anything. They make their points in that every door is locked and has to be opened by someone looking at you on camera. You press the button; they ask you why you're there; they open the door; then they check you out.
**SP - They have someone at every door. I was actually detained at one point while they checked my ID and called up to the floor Molly was on. They lose points because this happened the night after someone entered the building and snuck into multiple patients' rooms to play with their feet. It was on the front page of the paper.
*UMCP - How can they be worse than SP you ask? Well they have no security at all. When Gavin was born my buddy, Tall, rolled in with a six of Miller Lite and a large Conte's and made it from the parking deck all the way to our room without anyone saying a word.

Physical Plant - These hospitals vary quite a bit in size. They also span the spectrum in age. They're all completely different from the next.

****CHoP - This place is gigantic. And it's modern. And it's fancy.
***RWJ - It looks pretty new from the outside. The Children's Hospital is brand new. There are some places that look pretty dingy inside, but for the most part it's nice.
**UMCP - It's small in comparison, and from the outside it just looks like a building. It's not terribly fancy, but it's not bad. The rating system is inflexible; it's third best.
*SP - If I could give it fewer stars I would.

There will be more categories. Scoring will be cumulative. So far it goes like this: CHoP (9), RWJ (8), SP (7), UMCP (6).

RWJ Stay Three; Day Three

Things change pretty quickly around here. I just sent an email to a friend a few minutes ago and stated that Molly's fever was down. Literally a few minutes ago I was saying this. Now it's back. At that point she was also asleep. Now she is not. She is quiet right now though. And a few minutes ago she wasn't. So when I say I am trying to keep everyone updated, you should know that by the time you read what I post it may no longer be accurate. I can't even promise it's accurate by the time I post what I type.

There is something just wrong about watching 24 on this little TV with the sound coming from this tiny speaker on a remote control with a wire attached to it. So I am not going to watch it. Please don't tell me anything about it. Seriously.

According to recent test results, Molly doesn't have RSV or the flu. That's all I really know. She is still on oxygen, but it's down to about 30% and her pulse/ox is still in the low 80s. I'd like to see it higher, on less oxygen. I'm not a doctor, I just play one in real life.

She is so tired that she doesn't even want to cry. I mean she wants you to know something is wrong, but she wants to do so while using the least energy necessary. The worst is when she sneezes or coughs though; you can tell how much it hurts. All kidding aside, she is way tougher than I am. You too.

So I am going to kick it with Molly tonight; get some work done real quick; catch up on my reading. I am also going to try to catch up on some emails. So if I don't send you one, and you think I should have, please feel free to remind me tomorrow.

The Tale of the Oatmeal Blueberry Pancakes

For those of you who are only checking in to see how Molly is doing I will spare you the suspense: I haven't talked to Erin yet so I have no update.

This is about breakfast.

I figured since the kid really wanted them I might as well make them. So after a Google search, and a few friendly recommendations from afar, I decided I would go ahead and make them from scratch; trying to keep it as healthy as possible. I will say they turned out nicely after I stole bits and pieces from various recipes. I wanted to take a picture, but I can't find the camera.

It took a little longer to make them since I had to do some research, but I thought making Gavin wait a little while would be a fair trade for him making me get up before 7 am. We decided to have a sleepover in mom and dad's room last night and despite being less than half the size of his mother (who has no concept of even distribution of mattress space) he actually takes up more room. At times last night he was actually perpendicular to me, at one point even seeming as if he was trying to push me off the bed with his legs.

So in the end the pancakes came out looking and tasting great. There is one minor adjustment I would make next time, but I am happy about it. Gavin sat down and started eating and couldn't stop telling me how good they were. He even said he'd be having another when he finished his first two. Then he lost some steam, and here's the kicker, he told me, "blueberry isn't really my favorite. I'd rather just have clear pancakes." He also suggested maybe using Craisins.

So I guess my next "from scratch" will be Gavin's Clear Pancakes, but for my first I give you "Solo Dad's Sorta Healthy Blueberry Oatmeal Pancakes":

To make oatmeal mix one cup water with 3/4 cup instant oats and microwave according to oatmeal package. In a small bowl beat one egg and milk like you're making a scrambled egg. In a medium bowl mix the following dry ingredients: 1/2 cup flour, tsp cinnanmin, tsp baking powder, 1/2 tsp salt. Mix egg mixture into dry mix until well blended, add oatmeal and stir completely. Then add a 1/2 cup frozen blueberries to mixture and fold in (that's the change. I used about a cup).

I used a griddle and heated to 350. They cooked for about 3 minutes on each side. Flip when the edges start to crust.

We topped with a tablespoon of low fat vanilla yogurt (rather than butter) and maple syrup.

I doubt this is at risk of becoming a regular thing, but maybe something easy like this will come in handy for some of you. Next time you want to impress your kids/wife/girlfriend/random girl who came home from the bar with you but you think you may want to see her again rather than let her sneak out of the house while you're in the shower, you can make pancakes. Although in order to do that you need to have some basic staples in your arsenal, and I feel like most of the people I am thinking would benefit from this need recipes using only ketchup, light beer, Chinese take-out condiment packages, and baking soda.

What a Miserable Grouch

That would be what people are saying about me. Not that I am normally miserable. But once I get sick I become this hideous beast. And I've been sick all week.

Plus as it turns out I am a much more negative person than even I anticipated. I thought I had issues with aggressive driving, but I kicked that without incident. Since giving up negativity for Lent I am appauled by how easily it flows.

Anyway to the business more interesting to the audience:

This was supposed to be a big weekend. Erin and I were heading to a Dierks Bentley concert last night and then Erin was going to go down to AC for a bachelorette party tonight. So the concern for being left solo with two children for over 24 hours was far outweighed by the excitement for the DB concert. Then the spiral.

Molly was up a lot of Thursday night and had a fever for most of the day Friday. She was extremely irritable around dinner time and Erin and I decided to skip the concert because we knew it would be a rough night for Molly. Gavin stayed at Grandma and Grandpa's for his much-anticipated sleepover, but Molly came home with us. Her breathing was labored, her fever wasn't going away, and her mood was sour. We put her on two liters of oxygen and her pulse/ox was in the low 80% range. That's where she should be on room air; with oxygen she should be in the 90s - especially with that much. She ended up sleeping for maybe 20 minutes at three different points during the night. It was miserable.

So this morning I took the Bear to the pediatrician. He never even took her out of the car seat. He told me to take her to the hospital. I called Erin, who was getting ready to leave for the big bachelorette evening, to tell her we were going to RWJ. She decided it would be best if she came too, and so I picked her up on the way.

Molly was brought into the Pediatric ER (third time in the same pod) and stabilized. She was in really bad shape for a while, actually. She looked as bad as she's looked since the first time in that pod on October 18 (two weeks before heart surgery). They worked her into pretty good shape in a hurry, and aside from being really tired and uncomfortable, she was fine. We were admitted and brought to a room in the PICU at around 2 pm.

As is always the case, there were numerous tests. These typically involve gathering blood, mucous, and urine. These are all sent off to some lab to test for a variety of things and then gradually the doctors can narrow it down to something. They also did another chest x-ray. The first thing they told us was that although little had changed since her previous x-ray, it did look like she had some pneumonia in her right lung. They also said that she was presenting with some symptoms of meningitis and encouraged us to let them do a spinal tap.

Imagine if you will your humble author sprawled comfortably on the "bed" watching a movie and dozing off while Erin deals with yet another doctor or nurse or nurse practitioner coming in to look Molly over [she handles that because, well frankly, she is much better at listening and remembering and answering the questions that are actually being asked]. Half asleep/engrossed in a movie I've seen seven times I notice they're there, but I am paying little attention until I hear the words "spinal tap" and suddenly spring into action.

Last time we were there we were told they'd like to do a spinal tap because there were some symptoms of meningitis - same doctor said it, in fact - and Molly turned out to have a urinary tract infection. Erin knows I am not a fan of the spinal tap and thus was looking for me to interject. I simply asked if we might wait until some other results came back before jumping to an assumption that required a needle to be stuck in the very vehicle that enables my very petite, nearly eight month-old daughter to move the little bit she is able. The doctor pushed back a little on the time we would lose by waiting. I pushed back with a maybe we can split the difference recommendation.

In the end I lost. Ultimately I am not going to refuse medical care that may be necessary, but I am going to register my disapproval. And I did this one last time, as I was signing the consent form, just for the record. We were asked to wait outside while the "lumbar puncture" was administered - as if we were planning to stay there anyway.

By the way Erin just called me a few minutes ago to tell me the spinal tap results came back negative.

So now Erin and Molly are at the hospital while Gavin and I are home for a sleepover and some oatmeal blueberry pancakes for breakfast. He's been asking about them all week, and Erin says I told him I'd make them, but I have no idea how and I can't find the recipe. So, basically, help a brother out if you can tell me how to make them. Or why anyone would want them.

A Well Written Article and a Babbling Blogger

This article is written by a father who lost a child to Trisomy 18 in 2005, and also happens to be a reporter for the paper.

I was struggling with exactly what to write about the last article I shared, and I am glad I didn't spend too much time on that exercise. My main point was that I wanted people to see a perspective other than my own on the subject. That article was mostly about hospice care, and at points a bit slanted toward religion, but it did a great job of telling the story and letting the reader see into the lives of the family. The video was fantastic, because it was almost entirely about the people.

This article is right on the money, mostly because it's written entirely by someone who has been there. I feel like I know this author, through the emotions he articulates, and I can't even relate to his ultimate grief.

Basically what I want everyone to see is how lucky we are that Molly is doing as well as she is - I celebrate her triumphs in this space with news like monthly birthdays and saliva bubble tricks; and I share her pitfalls in terms of high fevers and regurgitated formula - but at the same time we have to be sure to keep it all in perspective. This is a serious condition, with one in 3,000 odds, and no treatment programs. We've been fortunate to find doctors who are willing and able to perform the surgeries she needs, and provide the care she deserves, but this is not always a luxury people are given. Often people are told, "Enjoy the time you have. Keep her comfortable."

If baby steps count for anything there have now been two articles published in the last week, in newspapers that circulate to over two million people, discussing a condition that I had never in my life even heard of before March 13, 2006. Hopefully it helps raise awareness. Perhaps even get some more people to join the dedicated few who have been working feverishly behind the scenes to support those one in 3,000 and find the data needed to make it more like one in 30,000.

If You Have to Ask

I've heard that if you have to ask how much it is, you probably can't afford it. I just assume I can't afford it no matter how much it is, so I buy it without asking so the person selling it thinks I can afford it.

The same seems to be true of a lot of things. If you have to ask, you should probably carefully consider what follows. Think about it: how often do you say, "Do you mind if I ask you something?" This is inevitably followed by something personal or potentially offensive: "Could you loan me $5,000 so I can buy that plasma TV. I'm not sure how much it is but with $5k in my pocket I am sure it's in my range."

That's obviously a silly example, but I hope it makes sense. It's basically the same idea as checking the price: If you're seeking permission to ask the question, you should probably reconsider the question.

Mind you this all stems from my Lenten sacrifice. Since I pledged to give up making negative comments, I am usually careful to consider what I say before I actually say it [This has not been without setbacks, of course. See sometimes my mouth works faster than my brain and completely ridiculous things just come spewing out. Like when I was watching American Idol the other night and I saw the big kid with all the curly hair and rather than taking the time to say something positive - well or even meet in the middle with something only slightly negative - my reckless trap let out, "I can't believe someone married that guy." What a jerk. I know. But at least he wasn't there to hear me.]. This also makes me more attentive to what others are saying. I have decided that it would serve everyone well to take a minute to think about what they're saying before actually doing so. It might make the world a happier place to live; albeit less fun.

Get to the point already.

I was once told that there are only three things you should absolutely never ask someone: 1. How much money do you make? 2. Why don't you have children? and 3. Are you two sleeping together? These are three things you should ABSOLUTELY never ask, and if you take a couple minutes to analyze them, it'll make perfect sense. In addition, however, there are a number of things you should probably never ask, and most of them are prefaced with the request to ask them.

"Do you mind if I ask..."
"I hope you don't mind me asking..."
"Would it be okay if I asked..."
"Can I be honest with you..."
"Will you be honest with me..."

Obviously this isn't a hard and fast rule. "Will you be honest with me? Do these pants make my butt look big?" or "I hope you don't mind me asking where you got that burrito?" are clear exceptions. However, in my humble opinion, "Would it be okay if I asked if those are real?" and "Do you mind if I ask what's wrong with her?" are never appropriate. Especially if they're designed to start a conversation with a stranger.

Now let's just assume for a moment mine are not real. And there I am in the plastic surgeon's reception area where I am waiting to see Dr. Boneshaver about some rhinoplasty. I may be perfectly comfortable extrapolating that the buxom young woman next to me has already enjoyed the good doctor's services, but would it be appropriate of me to ask her about it? Perhaps. Maybe if I were to say, "I hope you don't mind me asking? Do you know anything about this doctor?" But certainly not if I were to say "Do you mind if I ask what's wrong with those?" She might be there to talk about fixing a scar from her knee surgery; or his daughter, waiting to go to lunch. You can't presume to know anything for certain, even if the environment suggests you should.

I know, I know. The point.

The other day when we were in the waiting area for Molly's follow up to her g tube surgery, a woman approached us holding her baby. I'd say the little girl was nine months old? She was cute. She had earrings. Nodding toward Molly, in the general direction of me and Erin, this cute little girl's mom says, "Do you mind if I ask what's wrong with her?"

I quickly calculated a few responses:

"Nothing."
"What do you mean?"
"She's small."

But honestly, I never intended to say anything. My wife, because this entire process has made her tough as nails, simply said, "She has Trisomy 18." It was clear this woman had no idea what that meant, and she proceeded to tell Erin she was only asking because her daughter looked just like Molly when she was born. At that point the receptionist called me to fill out some paperwork and I didn't return until the cute baby with the earrings - and her mother - had gone off somewhere. She turned out to be perfectly nice. And she was only asking because she thought maybe her daughter and Molly had something in common.

Perhaps I am hyper-sensitive because I am trying to keep it positive?

Or maybe there are actually four things you should absolutely never ask someone.

Sew Buttons, They Don't Stick

That's another thing my grandfather used to tell me if I ever asked "So?" in response to something that was said by another person.

Miss Molly just returned from visiting the surgeon who put in her g tube. Everything looked good and she had healed nicely, so they went ahead and outfitted her with the "button."

This highly anticipated piece of equipment has a balloon that goes into her abdomen through the hole made during the g tube surgery, and is filled with water. The filling of the balloon prohibits it from being pulled out. If we ever need to remove the button, we use a syringe and remove the water from the balloon and pop it out. When the button is in place it basically lies flush against her skin so there is nothing to catch on car seats, or clothes, or little fingers.

When it's time to eat we connect the extension tube to the button at one end, and the feeding bag at the other. She then eats exactly the same way she has been eating since the g tube surgery, and effectively the same way she has been eating since the ng tube was first put in last October.

Molly was an absolutely perfect baby during the exam and procedure. She was completely still and didn't make a sound (other than occasionally talking a little).

Tomorrow Molly is scheduled to meet her new OT, and we bought a little Tummy Time mat in anticipation of her homework. It was also sort of a reward for being such a good baby for the doctors.

Vesicoureteral Reflux and the Voiding Cystourethrogram

Doesn't that sound like some twisted Grimm fairy tale? Well it's actually the procedure Molly had this morning, and the condition they were testing for. You can learn more about it here.

It turns out Molly does have some reflux from the bladder. It means the urine is leaving the bladder and some is heading up toward the kidneys. This can cause chronic urinary tract infections (you may recall that was what landed Molly in RWJ two weeks ago, and what prompted this test), and possibly kidney infections. The doctor said on a scale of 1 to 5, Molly's condition is probably a 3.5.

She'll be treated with low-dose antibiotics for up to a year. Then we would have a follow up. In many cases these conditions clear up on their own. Molly's is not terrbily severe, so as long as the antibiotics work there should be very little to worry about.

Tomorrow it's back down to CHoP for the g tube follow up.

Newspaper Article

A friend sent me this article this morning from a paper named for a city not far from here. If you know me, you know I would not have found this article without the help of said friend (or the subsequent friends who have also told me about it) because I avoid reading this particular newspaper for personal reasons, which I promised never to bring up in this space [in paragraphs one and two of this post).

I have just finished reading this article and I have some thoughts. I do not, however, have time to express them right now. Please check back for a future post where I will share my thoughts. In the meantime, please take a few minutes to read the article. And feel free to share your thoughts if you have time.

Obligatory, Straightforward Molly Update

Molly has now slept in her own room for five consecutive nights. She actually seems to sleep better in there, too. She wasn't the slightest bit fazed by the early daylight savings change. The rest of us took a bit of a beating though. I am sad to admit that I was even up at 2 am to change the clock ahead. I think my sleeplessness was compounded by the confusion caused when I tried to find something to watch on TV just before 2 am and was only able to find things starting an hour later. Then it dawned on me: the clock and guide on the TV are both smarter than me.

So aside from the fairly regular oral evacuation of her formula, Molly seems to be feeling well and happy. In fact even after any of the aforementioned events she tends to get smiley. I guess this could inadvertently add credit to the adage that babies are not really smiling at their parents, they simply have gas.

I'm sure most of you have seen the latest picture of Molly, but in case you haven't, check it out here on Erin's site. Speaking of Erin's site (as opposed to my site), we're thinking of combining the two sites via a central hub using a .Mac page. It will certainly take more effort to get it organized, but it will be more convenient in the long run. And it will just give us some more flexibility in terms of content. Stay tuned for details on that [By the way, do you like how I write as if millions of people are reading this. Funny right? Like it's going to take some big marketing effort and a gradual migration of data to make sure we don't lose any page views].

This weekend Gavin and Molly went to their cousin's birthday party. In addition to having a bus in front of the house exclaiming that it was fun, it was fun. The kids all spent an hour running, jumping and non-stop moving aboard the Fun Bus and there was a full-on chocolate ice cream cake. If you ask me it doesn't get any better than a self-contained gymnasium that parks in front of your house and comes with babysitters, and a four-inch high pile of chocolate ice cream and those crunchy things.

In other anniversary news, Molly's seven month birthday was Saturday, and Friday was the one-year anniversary of the first post on this site [please hold you applause until the end].

As for the rest of us: Gavin has a cold, which Erin may be contracting as well. This means Molly is likely next (but hopefully not) and I am not far behind. We have a busy week this week with doctor appointments tomorrow and Wednesday. Tomorrow we head to New Brunswick for a bladder thing, and the next day we head to Phila for the follow up on Molly's g tube surgery. We're not sure if they're going to change her from the tube to the highly anticipated button Wednesday, or if this is for a subsequent visit? But we'll know soon enough. And, as always, you guys will be the first to know after the ones who know already.

I Planned on Resigning This Morning

But it turns out I didn't win the MegaMillions Jackpot.

Plus it actually would have been silly to quit. I mean I enjoy what I do, and it's probably not the best time to give up the medical benefits. Not to mention I could have taken credit for soliciting the huge gift I would have made to the School.

But like I said, I didn't win.

I did spend a fair amount of time yesterday thinking about winning it. C'mon you've done it before. And you should all be sad for me [unless one of you won, in which case forget about me and get to your lawyers office immediately]; because a bunch of you stood to benefit from my "what-ifs".

Get this: I'm only practical because I have to be.

For a few minutes yesterday afternoon, when I had a lump-sum take-home (after taxes and splitting the balance with the person who actually purchased the ticket for me) of roughly $92m, I was driving a Bentley; Ten $2m trusts were set up (some of the beneficiaries don't exist yet, and hardly any of them are my kids); I had built four houses (only two of them were ours); Lville had a new turf football field and a $1m endowed annual fund gift; a couple other charitable gifts were made and large expenses were handled; and then we started living off the conservative return of almost $3m/year without touching the principal.

That's when I realized that after paying my lawyer, investment guy, cleaning person, and landscaper, $3m/year wasn't really all that much money and thus I would have to keep my job.

Or I could downsize my houses; drive an Escalade; make those trusts $1m each; keep grass on the football field; give a couple thousand bucks a year to the annual fund; and live off a much larger return?

Or maybe a combination of the two?

Sure, the best case scenario would be to change very little about your lifestyle and just be comfortable with the fact that you - and a few generations afterwards, if invested properly - would never have to worry about money again. But what are the chances that you could do that? I am fairly certain I would have to start spending like a rapper.

But like I said, I didn't win. Although someone from NJ apparently did.

So back here on planet Earth there is little to report on Miss Molly. She is home resting; wearing one of her hand splints; spitting up occasionally after she eats; and blowing raspberries at her mother at like 4 in the morning. The visiting nurse came the other day and she weighed nine pounds two ounces. Her lungs sounded clear. Yesterday a respiratory therapist came and showed Erin how to hook up Molly's breathing monitor.