Another day of xrays, blood tests, steroids, antibiotics, breathing treatments, and other assorted medication. Basically he's pushing 3 liters (I believe that's the standard measure) of air and is maintaining a 91% percent average. Tragedy is I don't know what the hell that means short of his blood has less oxygen in it than it should have. He's at the minimum going to be spending another night and I wouldn't be surprised if he's spending Christmas night too.
He's incredibly bummed and I'm doing all I can to keep his spirits up, but I'm failing miserably. There's only so much happy conversation that a guy can come up with that can compete with spending Christmas in the hospital.
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