Meg was up a lot during the night last night, and today hasn't gone any better. She cries certain her head is going to puke, and it won't stop pounding.
Tired and exhausted we drove to Omaha Children's. Staying in communication with Houston's Neurosurgical team, it was decided to do an MRI and see what's going on. We should know results tomorrow.
The only smile Meg attempted in hours, was smirking to tell me I should be a nurse after I donned the outrageously sized scrubs I was handed. Sarcasm never completely diminishes in our family, no matter how dire the circumstances. It excited her to find, there's no age limit for playing dress up. Otherwise, she laid against me or had her head on my shoulder, in her own little world. Drawing her back resulted in whines and cries, so I let her be.
It's frustrating and disappointing to spend a day like we did today. Being tired doesn't help. Driving back home, I kept asking myself, "What's one more day?" I should be used to it by now, but in many ways, it isn't getting easier.
Some days, my thankfulness goes only as far as the day being over. I can't imagine Jesus thinking its a day well spent with that attitude, but then again, maybe He understands better than anyone.