Vega is still asleep. The hospital does funny things to time and space. As I am writing the blinds are down. Activity and noise goes on all the time, around the clock. Vega is being monitored every four hours, has medication every six, so we pretty much have someone in the room every two hours, except in our “glory” sleep time between 2am and 6am. Privacy is on hold. Cleaners, nurses, doctors, dinner ladies, volunteers, play specialist, pharmacists, students, maintenance personell… We have visitors/intruders all the time. There is no clock in the room, the TV is broken. Vega is a Netflix junkie. I have no idea what has been going on in the outside world since Monday. I half expect the world to be snowed in, burned down, washed out, apocalyptically devastation, when I open the blinds in a few minutes.
But then, maybe it will still be Camberwell. Life does go on outside, evidentially.
We hope to be leaving today.