Hope saw the two most important people yesterday: Santa and her cardiologist. She was ho-ho-hum about Santa, but kicked, giggled and waved her arms for the cardiologist. The girl's got some suspect priorities.
But maybe she was on to something. The cardiology appointment is a biggie. We've worried about it for weeks, in our familiar way. First, we deny and refuse to discuss. Then, as it approaches, we feel sick to our stomachs and paralyzed by dread until we're in the waiting room thinking, "Oh God, we're going to spend Christmas in the hospital."
It's not the ideal strategy, but so far, so good.
And it sort of works: Hope's appointment went well. Her heart is still a bit abnormal. She has a narrowing of her aorta, which could be suggestive of a mild coarctation. Some blood appears to be flowing a wee bit faster than it should, which could lead to other problems down the road. But not now. Her numbers are great. Her heart is working as it should. There's no change from seven months ago.
In short, good news. We don't have to see the cardiologist again for nine months.
Merry Christmas indeed. Phew.