Physically, Emily is about the same as yesterday. Perhaps she is a bit stronger, but compared to the major progress she made earlier in the week, the last two days have been slow going.
She's still shooting for that magic number 40 on her breathing test. She's been hovering around 32/34. For you biblical and classics scholars out there you'll recognize the looming significance of that number 40 as literary code for a long long time. (40 years in the wilderness for the people of Israel, 40 days and nights in the ark for noah and his unruly brood) You see, in the Bible 40 never actually means 40. It just means that it took such a long time that no one bothered to keep count and everyone was quite restless during the whole ordeal.
It would have been a comfort if 40 actually meant 40. There would be an actual, identifiable point sometime in the future to look forward to, and to which one might count down like a child counting down to Christmas. When 40 just means an insufferably long time, it's a bit more frustrating.
Today, as I mentioned, has been frustrating. The tube that was presumably coming out today remains in place. Emily is breathing much better, and in fact doing much more of the breathing than the machine is helping with, but as a safeguard they are observing her for another day -- at least. This is wearing on us, and especially on Emily. I can see her disappointment and her frustration. I am by nature a patient person, but this is also wearing thin. I only hope that this wandering in the wilderness soon comes to an end.
