It’s 9 p.m. on Saturday, and Super Zeke the Amazing is feeding himself a bottle of Pedialyte as I kick back and start typing this post. I am stupefied by the rate at which my son is recovering, both physically and mentally.

Things really started to rebound around 1 a.m. when the following trifecta began to take hold:

1. Codine, instead of morphine (which also caused his nose to itch), was given for pain relief;
2. The rediscovery his right thumb enabled him greater pacification;
3. And snuggling with a Gabriel-scented blankie and Pooh bear from home offered him ultimate relaxation.

It was as if the stars aligned when my previously distressed boy pulled that woobie over his head, hugged Pooh tight, and passed out in a deep and contented slumber with his favorite thumb planted safely in his mouth. It was a beautiful sight to finally see Zeke so rested and for such a long period of time. Ever since then, he has been like a baby superhero, healing at the speed of light, battling the downsides of a lengthy hospital stay and getting healthy with avengeance!

Here’s how things have played out since our pint-sized Man of Steel kicked into gear:

June 13

• 6:30 a.m. — Zeke smiled for the first since the surgery.
• 7:30 p.m. — He had his first poop.
• 8 a.m. — He had an aerobic get-it-out cry after his morning codine and impressed everyone with his sonorous screams, so it seems like Zeke’s four remaining lobes are doing just fine without the help of the fifth.
• 8:45 a.m. — Since his right hand was getting puffy at the site, Nurse Amanda took out Zeke’s IV, as well as his catheter. Man, did that IV dressing leave behind a nasty stink-foot stench. Who knew a sweet and delicate baby hand could smell so dang nasty?!
• 9:15 a.m. — Amanda weighed Zeke before his first sponge bath and stinky boy came in at 20 pounds, 11 ounces. She said the chest tubing weighs about a pound, but still, Zeke didn’t even weigh 18 pounds the day of his CT scan on June 2. You do the math; that’s some astonishing growth for sure!
• 11:15 a.m. — Amanda and I were hoping Zeke could forego an IV, since his codine is administered orally and antiobiotics (which he was to start taking at noon) also come in liquid form. “I begged him,” Amanda said of her pleas with the doc, but he still insisted on another IV.
• 11:30 a.m. — After taking Zeke’s temp, which was 98.5 (down from 100.1 earlier in the morning), Amanda reluctanly put an IV in his foot. I tried to distract him with pictures from with Houston’s “Oh my, oh my, oh dinosaurs!” book, singing him silly Mommy songs and letting him use a bottle of Pedialyte as a pacifier. He really is the Brave Baby of Steel ’cause he shed not one tear when that big, sharp needle pierced his itty-bitty vein.
• 12:15 p.m. — A second IV was successfully inserted in his foot. Unfortunately, the first one didn’t flush, so two delightful Air Care nurses (who had just brought a sick kid in on a chopper), did the dirty work, while Amanda tended to the new patient. Our Z-Bird only cried for a split second and then began flirting, consequently adding two more chicks onto his growing list of hot-nurse girlfriends.
• 1 p.m. — The doc visited and confirmed our suspicions that Zeke would be moving to a regular pediatric room today. He also explained that Zeke’s leaking chest tube was of no concern. As long as blood and other bodily fluids continue to drain out of the site, preventing infection, he doesn’t really care the path in which they exit the body. He then hinted that he wouldn’t be surprised if the chest tube was removed on Sunday.
• 3 p.m. — Amanda and Jim, a nice nursing assistant, wheeled Zeke around the corner from intermediate care to his new private room. Amanda had grown pretty fond of my charming boy and opted to bend the rules by letting Zeke keep his bed from the PICU, instead of subjecting him to the small, rigid, prison-like cribs found in the floor rooms.
• 4:30 p.m. — Daddy and Granny brought Houston and Gabriel to visit brother for the first time. Houston was surprisingly unimpressed with the hospital and Zeke’s circumstances, whereas Gabriel beamed when he layed eyes upon his best buddy. Reports are that he has been extremely bummed without his other half, waking up throughout the night just wanting to be held — not a typical thing for Gabe.
• Midnight — Zeke’s IV was starting to come loose, so Nurse Yvonne got a IV-expert nurse in to fix the current one, which she did, saving Zeke the pain of having a third IV inserted.

Other notables:

• Zeke’s hemoglobin levels had been 7.6, but have shot up to 9.8 (normal level is 10.5).
• The sodium and CO2 levels in his blood are a smidge low, but Nurse JoAnne said that at the rate Zeke’s rebounding, it would definitely not be necessary to give Zeke a blood transfusiion.
• I eventually discovered the hospital provides real-food trays for all nursing moms, so I have been getting them delivered to Zeke’s room. Better late than never.
• I left for home yesterday before my first tray was delivered, so “thanks” to Pastor Joe for bringing me my first post-broth-and-jello meal of the day.
• Thanks to Auntie Merdy for bringing me my first coffee of the day … and just the way I like it: with tons of cream, sugar and caffeine.
• Thanks to Granny for keeping Zeke company and letting me head home to decompress with the boys for a bit.
• Thanks to Daddy for being the best father and husband in the whole, wide world.
• And thanks to God for sparing our little angel.