Ninja parents

Trish walks down the hospital hallway with two giant suitcases. I follow with a stroller packed seven feet high, laden like an ox. Dom? Nowhere to be seen, sitting back in the room we just unpacked.

Missing something? Nope, just a typical moving day at the Alberta Children's Hospital.

We have this down to a science. As soon as they tell us we can leave, we turn in to extrication ninjas, knowing exactly what fits best where and how to balance bags on our shoulders while swiping the sensors that open double doors to the unit.

Given Dominic's blood counts we normally wouldn't be going anywhere. He has no neutrophils, will get a platelet transfusion today and had a hemoglobin transfusion yesterday.

On the flip side he's still happily blowing kisses, raising the roof and pulling out his soother to pose for photos.

There's been no trace of the C. difficile he was diagnosed with early in the week, though he did get a new diagnosis for rhinovirus (the common cold). That was expected given the amount of tissues he continues to blow through. He'll return to Medicine Hat with antibiotics to keep any potential infections at bay until we return to Calgary.

It's been a good week. We had a visit from relatives we hadn't seen since last June, got out socially with other friends and will leave him with grandparents so we can go to a football game.

The only drawback was that the rhinovirus kept him in isolation, though he seemed OK with it for most of the time. The ninjas brought in just the right amount of toys, augmented by Wednesday's bingo prizes and a steady stream of visitors.

We should have another week at home home, then back to the second round of chemo and the T-cell infusion.

This may be the calm before the storm, but we're not going to focus on the storm until it's here. We don't know how intense it'll be, how long it'll last or what follows it. Might as well enjoy today.