Hello, son,
You just fell asleep. I’m sitting next to you in the small armchair where you do your NIV.
Over the last few days, your virus seems to have flown away and we finally see you back in “top” form.
This morning, for the first time in a long while, you showed almost no resistance to eating. I hope we’ll continue in this direction.
We’re also doing a series of vaccines. Yesterday bronchiolitis, today hexa, tomorrow Covid.
On the advice of your pediatrician and your pulmonologist, we’re also trying to organize a return home that could happen next week if everything continues to go well.
Our life is often like that. Everything has to be done quickly, often at the last minute. We had planned to return in a few months, but everything accelerated when the floor tiles in the apartment started to explode. Sometimes life decides for us.
(This past year it’s been deciding a lot, maybe too much?)
Today we also notified the insurance company, who announced they would no longer cover anything.
No more oxygen, or even the minimum we managed to get by fighting after your discharge from the hospital.
It’s not really surprising coming from them.
But after everything that happened in their hospital, we could have imagined a bit more help.
It’s sad for such a large insurance company. And especially sad for the many Brazilians who depend on them.
We also notified the apartment’s real estate agency. The file has been sent to the legal department.
I hope they’ll be fair.
In this kind of situation, you’re never totally safe from surprises…
That’s the latest news. We keep moving forward.
I love you, my little potato
Dad
