Tough times

We went back to the splendid Children's Hospital at Westmead this morning for B2's dressing to be changed, which was the first chance for the doctors to have a look at the damage. Unfortunately, the prognosis wasn't what we were hoping for. The wound is patchy, but the worst bits (on the underarm, mainly) are bad enough to require a skin graft. That will happen next week, which means general anaesthetic and the whole deal. Poor wee sausage.

It was also the first time that I saw his skin, because he had been dressed by the time I got there on the day of the accident. I was pretty shaken by it - there was blood and puss and other such unpleasantness. Horrible, but he is bearing it with his usual stoicism.

Thanks to everyone who has sent B2 their wishes on comments, via email and so on. It means a lot.