Update.

Michael got in to see his father last night. He apparently looks like hell, and is continuing to run fevers they're not fully able to control, but he was conscious and in his right mind. And very, very surprised to see Michael walk into the room.

In an exceedingly typical Michael's-father move, he suggested that Michael should have waited a few days to visit, so he'd be back on his feet and able to do things. Uh huh.

So he's not dead, which is what both of us had been thinking during the long stretch of no news. But he's still pretty sick.

This is a different hospital from the last one where we visited Michael's father in the ICU. They apparently have liberalized visiting rules, so Michael will be able to see a fair amount of his father today. Yay.

Alex and I are doing fine. She painted a get-well picture for her Poppy, and another one that's a coming-home picture for Michael.

Monday night update.

This morning Michael sounded confident, and said that he could see improvement and that his father might be moved to a regular hospital room in the afternoon.

This evening he sounded tired, and said that his father was going to spend another night in the ICU; his condition had deteriorated somewhat as the day went on. But it doesn't sound like there were any dramatics.

Single-parenting a three-year-old is a lot easier than single-parenting a 15-month-old - which was the last time Michael was gone for any significant period of time. We cheated and had "breakfast for dinner" tonight: bacon, eggs, fruit, milk. It's easier than real cooking. But in general, she's a helpful and cooperative kid, and the burden is not too tremendous. She doesn't, for example, mind playing on her own while I wash dishes or take a shower.

Of course, check with me after another couple of days. Nursery school is closed, and Alex and I are going to be together 24/7 without respite until it reopens Thursday morning. It's possible that we'll be a little tired of each other by then.

We both miss Michael so much. My bed feels very empty at night.

In other news, I went back to the midwife this evening because I suspected that my infection had not totally cleared up. Which it hadn't. But the bonus was that she got out the Doppler and found a perfect little heartbeat lurking behind the whoosh-whoosh-whoosh of my own blood flowing through the placenta. I tell you, it's the best sound in the world.