Feisty...

Connor,

How about you and I have a little talk about a few things, father to son. Don't worry, its not time to have any of the "important" talks about buzzing insects and flying feathered creatures or why it is important to know how to drive a manual transmission even though they don't really make them anymore. We aren't going to talk about anything like that. Rather, we are going to talk about a little thing that your daddy is learning more and more about each and every day, and that is patience.

You may hear this word thrown around a lot while you are here but before you settle into some arbitrary meaning that you derive on your own let me explain a few things. First and foremost the difference between "patients" and "patience". You are Ben's patient (well I guess today was the first day you were no longer Ben's patient, which brings to light a good point that I will discuss later) and you are Dr. Morales' patient and as I sit here typing on this keyboard in the dim light of your hospital room you are Krista's patient. She is your nurse. Doctors and nurses have lots of patients and if they are good doctors and nurses they also have lots of patience.

But not everyone has a lot of patience. This word actually refers to your ability to deal with stressful or tedious situations gracefully. I'm sure Webster has a better way of saying it but I really don't feel like looking that up and for the purposes of our little chat I think my definition will be just fine. You see Connor, when something you aren't necessarily thrilled with is happening you sometimes have to be patient (tricky language we speak and write isn't it? Spanish is way easier). Or, when you are waiting for something to happen, or someone to show up, you have to be patient while you wait for them.

This isn't something your daddy has ever been very good at but since you have come into the picture it is something I am learning more and more about all the time. I have not always been (and am still not great at being) patient with people when they do things that annoy me, or when they run late, or when they don't show up all together. I'm not naming any names here because that isn't the point and because I don't know the name of the ENT's who appear to be avoiding our room despite telling your doctors they are coming to visit you. But that is neither here nor there because we are talking about being patient right?

So the last two days I have been patiently waiting on the ENT's to show up and schedule your surgery for next week. Today I was within 50 feet of your room for approximately 15 hours, minus the time it took me to get mommy some dinner, and they didn't show up. So you know what I did? Not a thing. I sat here and played with you and read my book and asked politely every chance I had to see if anyone had an update. The nurses and the other doctors were great and they too were patient when they were responding to me.

So lets take a look at how this relates back to your life in the little crib across the room. You see, you have about as much patience as daddy has swimming medals. You aren't laughing now because you have never seen me in a pool but trust me, one day that will be funny. My point though, is to say that we need to work on your patience a little. When we are trying to change your bed, you got a new one today by the way, you should give us a good thirty seconds before you go into all out rage. When we are trying to suction out your little mouth and do a little mouth care you should let us finish before you decide you want to turn the suction on our eyeballs. And when we try to put you on your right side because the doctors and nurses and therapists and mommy and daddy all KNOW that you need to spend some time on that side you should give it at least a good five minute trial before you go into your newly found "I am going to freak out and turn my head purple and run my heart rate up and flail like I am being subjected to excessive rectal temp checks" mode. I mean seriously son, we had you on your right side for all of three seconds and your body turned into something from Willy Wonka's factory.

So how about we make a deal. Daddy will keep working on controlling his temper when it comes to things that bother him and you will work on having just a little patience with those of us around you who want to try and help you get better. Sound like a plan?

Now, quick recap of today. You slept for a while. Then mommy came over for a bit but had to go home with a bit of a tummy ache. You slept some more. Then daddy got locked out of your POD while rounds were going on so I didn't get to meet the doctor taking over for Ben (told you I'd get back to it). Meanwhile you slept. Then daddy finished his book while you slept. Then daddy took some dinner over to mommy and you slept while Grandma was here. Then we got you a new bed and some new sheets and decided to get you cozy. Then you lost your (bleep bleep bleep) and we spent two and a half hours trying to calm you down. Thanks for that one.

All in all it was a good day though. You have been healing up and your numbers have been great and your tubes and lines and medicines continue to disappear. The doctors are thrilled with how well you are doing and you are even getting regular visits from your physical and occupational therapists like mommy said. In every way possible you are excelling, well except maybe the patience thing but we are working on that one together. So I have to tell you again just how proud I am of you for all your hard work and all your strength. Its inspirational to everyone around you.

Now that you seem to have calmed down and are no longer flipping out I think I am going to wrap up here and go try to get some sleep. Its been another one of those long but short time warp hospital days for your daddy and I quite ready for it to be over. Before I go though, I want to put up a picture of you from today. I snapped this one for Pappaw and Gigi when you woke up briefly for a diaper change. Apparently you weren't thrilled because you looked ready to fight.

The caption I sent with this one was "fisticuffs?" because you looked like an old Irish man with his dukes up. Feisty I tell ya, feisty.

Get some rest son, sweet dreams. 

I love you Connor.

- Daddy