Well, we're home now. Everybody is fine. Your love, your prayers, and your incredible kindness felt like a blanket (with sleeves!) of grace, and I thank you.
We left the house at 6:30, and arrived at the hospital to have the official Johns Hopkins Coffee of Healing:
Then, came the waiting.
There was that strange dichotomy that this is a hospital, a place of repair and healing, but also a place of illness and heartbreak.
The kids didn't care. They laughed and played in their surgical gowns.
Throughout it all, the doctors and nurses (especially the nurses) were kind, heroic, and skilled.
I heard a doctor say to a patient, "I heard that somebody ate a bird. I need to check to see if it was you."
The little girl, clutching her stuffed hippo, laughed and said, "I didn't eat a bird."
The doctor said, "I just need to check," and listened to her heart with his stethoscope.
"Nope, no birds," he said.
"I told you!" she said, giggling.
I love people that choose pediatrics.
After Paul put on his funny suit, and we posed for awkward, exhausted pictures...
...they took my Joely away.
Everything was taken care of. Problem solved. Easy Peasy.
Another happy ending, another little miracle.