The doctors have told us so many times that Will obviously doesn't read the same textbooks that they do that we're pretty sure everyone involved in his care will one day write a textbook dealing exclusively with what it takes to treat him. See, every time they expect one thing, he does another. In the very least, they'll need an appendix to each chapter in the neonatology textbooks: "The baby will react like this (note: if you are treating Will Kenyon, see page 238)."

It happened again tonight. He was having real trouble with his oxygen and his heartbeat was racing. They did a few different things, tweaking this and altering that. At one point they took an X-ray and Dr. Dagle came to tell us that Will's lungs looked much better than they'd expected. "He responded really well to the dexamethasone," he said, "which is not what we expected at all."

They expect a good response to that steroid, of course, just not as quickly as Will showed it. The result was that his oxygen needs decreased right before our eyes, and his heartrate began to settle down. So, we left hoping that trend would continue and that he'd have a good, quiet night. They anticipate that by later Wednesday he'll be feeling better, peeing more to get rid of that excess fluid, and breathing more easily again. We'll see. As we've learned by now, Will is going to do what Will wants to do; everyone else is left to play catch up.

On a lighter note, Will's bulkier physique has left his fatigued father coining any number of names for him, mostly stolen from the world of hip hop. Many different names apply, including Puff Daddy, Notorious B.I.G. and Biggie Smalls. These are added to the descriptive terms brought about by his constantly changing appearance. His ruddy complexion after a recent blood transfusion, coupled with his penchant to raise his rear end and move it around as he tries to settle himself while sleeping on his tummy led to my favorite so far: Pinky McWigglebutt. Poor kid. As if he doesn't have enough to worry about. Yes, I need sleep.