I'm still having trouble with bradycardias. Yesterday I had three of them -- one of which was severe enough that I needed moderate stimulation from a nice nurse to set my heart rate back to its usual 140 beats per minute. My mother spoke to the doctor yesterday about how I'm doing. He said, and I quote, "I’m a good little preemie", which I thought was very nice of him to say. He also explained that my bradys were the product of my having an immature brainstem and that I would probably outgrow them in a couple of weeks.

My eating habits are changing too as I get a little older. The hospital people like me to eat on an exact schedule -- once every three hours -- sort of like being in the military. Well, yesterday I decided to rebel (and not my usual Gandhi-like passive, non-violent resistance). Around 7pm last night, I started rooting around and fussing a whole lot. Dinner (or whatever meal this is) was not scheduled for another hour, but I didn't care. My behavior induced one of the nurses to call my mother and father and tell them to get their butts into the hospital to feed me. They were already on their way, so I didn't have to wait long. One of the nurses said that my insurrection could lead to my being put on something called ad lib feeding, where I get to choose when to eat. Hooray! Sweet victory!

Last night I ate 10ccs in the evening through nursing. The morning was a bit of a disaster. I was frustrated, my Mom was frustrated, everyone was frustrated. For some reason I was busy sucking away but getting little reward. Ugh. I hate it when that happens.