Horseshoes and Hand Grenades

As he has made abundantly clear so many times already, Oliver calls the shots around here. When it comes to discharge, the story is the same: The Brooklyn Kid will come home when The Brooklyn Kid decides it is time.

His largely incident-free run came to an end this morning with his parents buzzing around him, counting chickens and bouncing off walls. A meltdown during his mid-morning snack was followed up by a double-Bradycardia before lunch.

Hey, you two, wait just a minute... I'm still not even supposed to be born yet! And besides, I like it here with all these ladies floating around me, attending to my every need...

Oliver will be given four or five days to recalibrate before undergoing another sleep study. If things go well, the soonest we will see Oliver at home is early on Thanksgiving week.

...

As I sit at home listening to the clicking of the keyboard and the snoring of an obese cat, I am desperate for the day when Oliver's din spoils the peace. No matter that he has never been here, the house feels lonely without him. I want him home, and I want it NOW.

Most of all, though, I want him safe and well and stable. I want his mother to be able to exhale. I want what is raw to be merely tender. I want the pain in her heart -- in our hearts -- to be relieved by the carefree laughter and spontaneous smiles of a family that is whole and happy.

...

Through the disappointment, we must keep perspective on Oliver's journey. The little fighter has scored some stunning knockouts, but that doesn't mean he's ready to turn pro. He did not so much as "fail" his sleep test as we failed to predict when he would be ready to pass. He'll let us know when he's good and ready.

Meanwhile, he begs your pardon, but some nurses need his attention...