did I mention how much fight you have in you?

Dear Madeline,

You really put on a performance today. Of your own power and out of sheer determination, you decided to pull out the "NG" stomach drain tube - may as well be called the "nas-ty" tube - from your nose.  The doctors had hoped to take it out in a stepwise approach and monitor your condition at each point, but you decided to literally take matters into your own hands.  Mission accomplished.  The doctors decided against reinserting and instead are monitoring you to make sure it doesn't make you worse off.

Your little stunt actually came with a few benefits. First, untethering yourself from the NG tube meant that I could pick you up from the crib and hold you in my arms for the first time since before surgery on Sunday night. Second, the docs decided to give the OK for me to offer you a bottle of pedialyte, and you eagerly gulped down a 1/4 ounce.   A little later, after another 1/4 ounce, you decided to share the lingering contents of your stomach with us in a way that would make special effects artists on horror movie sets blush.  A little unnerving, sure, but it would have come out one way or another.

You also finally convinced the docs and nurses to let you ditch the oxygen line after much pleading. One of the side effects of the pain meds you are on is a bothersome itching sensation in the nose and mouth area, right where your oxygen line was placed.  You fussed with it all day and did well without it for a while.  Eventually, we all thought it best if you had blown oxygen, but hey, look ma, no tubes!

Oh well, if nothing else, the medical team is thrilled to see you squirming around freely now. It might hurt, but it's great physical therapy.  Chalk this day up to another win for the "persistence pays" club.  The real danger of all of this for you, of course, is that you've shown us your true colors.  Persistence, determination, will, know-how, scheming.  You might think it only makes us think you're a smart cookie, but we know that you're a tough one too, and you've given us license to push you during your rehabilitation.

Tomorrow is a big day, angel.  We should get your final pathology report and treatment plan.  Tomorrow we begin to find out what you're really made of, so rest easy tonight.

Love,
   Daddy