Yesterday was not completely terrible, and today looks like it might be not terrible as well.
“Not terrible” is the new “good.”
Cee ate. (She didn’t eat any vegetables, and she may have had eggs for all three meals, but they were bright yellow yolk eggs from my aunt’s farm. Lots of nutrition there.)
Cee played. (Early afternoon I gave her some acetaminophen, which helped with the pain. Once it wore off and before she took it, she was walking around like she had on an invisible neck brace because of the pain.)
Cee slept. (This was actually real “good.” She didn’t wake up screaming at all last night. Whoo hoo!)
Cee is better than she was at her worst, but worse than she’s been at her best.
Back in January/February/March we kept telling ourselves that it would be better when we had a diagnosis. If we could just know the enemy we were fighting, it would somehow be easier. Well. We were wrong. It’s not easier. It’s still hard–just with more information.