Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.

Another day and we're still here. A discharge meeting, with potential discharge tomorrow, contingent on no nasties in the culture results due in the morning, and a dramatically improved cecostomy tract; it's currently leaking faeces which just isn't pleasant.

One extremely well child bouncing around, hugging the nurses, and turning a notebook into a prescription pad to prescribe going home times for everyone on the ward.

And then a new game plan, as infectious diseases think she ought to have 24 hours iv antibiotics after her line is removed. Which means a) we definitely won't be going home tomorrow, and b) she needs another cannula. Can I have the Midazolam myself this time please?

So, come what may, we won't be home tomorrow. If there is bad news tomorrow, Monday will be the earliest we will go, and potentially she'll need further surgery to sort out the cecostomy. If there's good news, then possibly we'll be home on Saturday.

So prayers please - for a simple recannulation, for good news on the bloods and a healing tract, and, failing that, that there's good news for another family so Mog and I can have a room upstairs in the Ronald McDobald House. I miss my Mog; it's been far too long.

And tonight I am thankful for the NHS.

For social services, and Helen House, and everyone who has been keeping Mog safe in all this.

For friend's and family feeding cats and keeping me sane

For Lynn's coffee flask

For play specialists and HCAs and everyone else who has fallen under tLP's spell

And for our own little room with its massive bathroom, so we can shut the rest of the ward away.

Tia