Some semblance of order

We met with The Doctor yesterday.

She's actually a very nice woman who grew up in Quebec. For the purposes of our discussions these days, however, she is The Doctor.

First we had to deal with Luciana's intense wish to get out of the hospital. Having her family visiting is a crazy-making overstimulation, I can tell. Suddenly she is seized with the intense desire -- more a complete plan than a wish -- to get out of the hospital and go out to a restaurant in Everett so she can take her mother to see her two children singing together. This absolutely has to happen and there is no reason to think that it shouldn't happen.

Except, as I point out repeatedly, she might fall down or slip on some ice, we might get into a traffic accident, some drunken lout might fall onto her table at the restaurant, or any number of other completely unanticipatable events might occur leading to an injury to her and the babies at a critical and very vulnerable time.

She apparently doesn't see how vulnerable she appears to me. My negative reactions to her wish-plan runs along the vein of "why are you trying to harsh my mellow?"

Finally I simply said, "No, I won't cooperate, I won't drive you, I won't take you, I won't go anywhere near this." She says, "Why can't you listen to me and listen to my feelings?" "I've heard your feelings but I'm not going to help you."

The Doctor says, "Good, so I don't have to be the bad guy here."

Then we talked about "how long." "How much longer?"

Of course all the same considerations are in place as before. If any of the babies show signs of distress, or if Luciana's pre-eclampsia deepens, or if labor begins, then the team will deliver the babies. But if none of that happens, there is an end-point anyway. March 8th is 34 weeks. The Doctor says, If you get to 34 weeks then we will schedule a delivery. "We can schedule it right now if you want."

Then there is a very funny conversation.

Me: "The 8th is a Sunday. You can't schedule it for a Sunday."
TD: "And I don't work on Monday and I want to do the delivery. Which would make it Tuesday, the 10th."
L: "I don't want to wait until the 10th. Marina's birthday is on the 7th. I want to have the babies on the 5th so I can go to her birthday party."
Me: "We'll have a birthday party here on the unit. Anyway, if you deliver on Thursday you're not going out of the hospital to a birthday party two days later."
L: "Sure I am, why not?"
Me: "Because you just carried three babies for 34 weeks and had a cesarean section and you're fifty years old??"
TD: "It would be better to do it on the tenth than on the fifth."
L: "I can't wait that long." And then also says something very complicated about her family that I won't go into details about right now. But it was very complicated and even a Medieval doctor of Laws couldn't have followed the twisted reasoning. Still, it all seemed to make perfect sense to Luciana.

So I said, "We can't agree about this now, and it may never matter because things may force our hand later this week or early next week, so let's just postpone the decision until next week."
Which seemed to please The Doctor and Luciana both.

So we left the meeting with three very clear and different ideas about what is going to happen.

Luciana is sure we are agreeing to a delivery on the fifth.

The Doctor is scheduling a delivery on the tenth.

I am sure that we are going to get tangled up in all this again next week.