Better than a sharp stick in the eye... maybe.

So we're in the beginning of our 6th day here in hospital land and I can honestly say we're ready to leave. Too bad the doctors don't think so.

Every morning at approximately 5:30 AM our door opens and we are assaulted with a continuous stream of doctors and RNs and CNAs and residents and students and housekeeping and dietitians and people from the cafeteria. They smile and listen to his belly and listen to his lungs and take his blood and add more antibiotics to his IV and remind him to eat and remind him to walk and ask him how he's feeling and if anything hurts and what his pain is on a scale of 1 to 10 and ask him what he wants to eat (always nothing) and this happens over and over again for about 5 hours.

And I can't help but wonder who decided that 5:30 AM was an appropriate time to wake a 10 year old up (and his mother) and draw his blood? And who decided that 6:00 AM was an appropriate time to force a mega-ton of food down the throat of a kid who hates to eat? Hospitals don't seem to be much in the "waking up calmly and gradually" camp.

All of this is coupled with the constant sounds of crying children and incessant beeping. It's really enough to make a person insane. Last night I dreamed that I had to beat beeping machines with a baseball bat until they shut up. It was a game I couldn't win.