Frazzled

My hospital is growing. Adding a couple extra floors in fact. And a brand spanking new gi-normous nursery. So last week we were moved out of the old nursery for the duration of construction. Into a couple of rooms with a huge plastic wall cutting a wedge down the middle and a lovely air filter pumping at about 150 decibels.

I've spent the last two nights saying: "Does anyone know where they put..."

Insert anything here. Diapers. Formula. Pacifiers. Blood culture bottles. Heel sticks. Bandaids. The medication cart. The blanket warmer. New charts. Old charts. The fax machine. Syringes.

It's tiresome. We want to put a MASH 4077 sign up on the plastic wall.

But, it's sort of like a pregnancy too...we've been excited about this for about three months, now we are going to be uncomfortable for another six months or so, but at the end, we'll have a beautiful new nursery.

At least that's the plan.


Thor sez: Tiresome is your constant whining when you could be adoring me.