Steroids and Chocolate

Four weeks ago I was born weighing fourteen ounces. That's less than a large grapefruit! Well, in only four weeks I made it to one pound eight ounces. My dad had his phone calculator out the other day when he came to visit. He told me if he gained the same percentage of weight, he'd weigh 325 pounds by May. I told him he shouldn't try to compete with me, and I think mommy agrees.

Everyone tells me they're proud of me that I've gained so much, but that doesn't make sense. I can't add to my stature just by thinking. But I am blessed and very thankful for all the help I've had. My doctors and nurses are so nice to me (except when they poke my little heels to test my blood), my family sure loves me (in fact, I've gotten lots of wonderful letters including one from my older cousin Lev and my other cousin Nora, who is only one day older than I am), and the hands of all the angels are so very comforting.

And I sure could use the comfort these days. In an effort to start breathing on my own and leave the ventilator behind, I've been getting steroid shots. It's supposed to help my lungs, but it makes me feel all funny inside. I don't really understand the feeling, I just know I'm restless. A friend said it's a strange feeling deep down between the bones and the muscles. So although I can't help but flail around and cry a lot, the settings on the ventilator are starting to go down a little bit and I do better at keeping my oxygen levels up.

By the way, my parents told me about something called a blog and said that people from all over the world are seeing the pictures of my family and reading my emails. I never knew I had friends from so many places! I do know about my good friend in Switzerland though. She wrote me a letter and asked if I wanted Swiss chocolate. My mom and dad told me to say yes and that I'll thank them later. I suspect some ulterior motives!

I love you all and I hope to meet you soon. If you come visit me, then I'll be able to put a face with your name.