Patrick and I were listening to our audiobook (Abhorsen, last in the trilogy by Garth Nix - yummy. DARK AND CREEPY and probably not for sensitive children - but yummy) in his room tonight when I realized that we had forgotten to saline his sinuses before bed. When he was discharged on Wednesday the nurse explained that he was not allowed to blow his nose for at least five days, so the combination of post-surgical blood and gunk would turn to cement inside his head without judicious and frequent sluicing.
I paused our book and said, oh, hey, you need to use the neti pot again.
Patrick gave an experimental sniff, then another.
I asked, how does your nose feel?
Snuff, whurgle, blooh. Snuff, whurgle, blooh.
Patrick considered and then said, "Amazing."
I said, "Really?"
He said, "Really. I've never been able to get this much air in and out in my life. I feel great."
I said, "Well that's terrific."
He said, "So will you go downstairs and make me some chocolate chip cookies to celebrate?"
And I said no. No, I wouldn't. So he drank some water instead and we went back to listening to our book.
Thanks for all of your good wishes. They pleased Patrick enormously and when he was up at four in the morning vomiting more blood (GOOD. LORD) he gagged, spit, rinsed, slumped and said, "No wonder the entire world feels so sorry for me."
Or at least our little corner of it. More later and our best wishes to everyone on the East coast who spent the weekend wetter and more wind-blown than they would've liked to have been.