Dinner: snack packet of humus and pretzels and an ice tea. The cafeteria worker, the same one I have seen countless times in the last week, glanced my way and said, "$7.61."

"You're kidding me," I replied. "Seven dollars and sixty-one cents for that?" I wished I had walked to Panera Bread, spent two dollars more, and gotten the Mediterranean Chicken and Quinoa salad. It is amazing, by the way. Try it.

"Four dollars work?" His expression was flat, but kind as he punched in his employee id.

Nathaniel took two steps forward today. He spent most of the late afternoon and evening on room air. Hooray! We also were able to increase his daytime feeds to two ounces given over a two hour period. Hooray! Hooray!

The doctor and I are ready to push that gas pedal to the floor.

I woke early Tuesday morning to Nathaniel's suction machine turning on and off. I glanced at the clock. 3:15 am. Rich had woken me when he crawled into bed around 12:40 am. He needed sleep. It was my turn to help the nurse and check on Nathaniel. I have learned over the last two years that there are little indicators of seriousness in how the nurses manage Nathaniel's care. Suctioning by flashlight is evidence of minor intervention. Walking down the hall, I noticed a brighter-than-flashlight glow from the room. The lamp by Nathaniel's crib was on. It announced an increased need for triage by his nurse and myself. Nathaniel had a fever. A very real aspect of our life is that Nathaniel can go from running and playing like normal to Pediatric Intensive Care Unit in a few hours.

Five years ago this afternoon, Rich stood in a sanctuary and offered a lunch blessing. Our guests were waiting to congratulate Bailee and her new husband, Jeremy, and to continue to celebrate with us. Everything about our daughter's wedding leading up to that point had been magical.