We've been told thaf Evan is to have his pacemaker fitted, and its to be done tomorrow.
Facebook is a strange and emotive medium, its 'You've got Memories' app, is throwing up memories from 2 years ago when we were over here for Evan's first operation.
But tonight it brought up a post from an adjournment debate in the Assembly a year ago tonight, and to be perfectly honest sitting here as the dad of a heart warrior, I'm not sure we are any better off - the plan nearly 3 years ago when children's heart surgery stopped in Belfast was to send our children to English hospitals and as we sit here today our children are mostly flying to England for their operations.
Anyone who has spent the night at the side of a hospital cot or their childs bed will know the low murmur of parents soothing children, nurses reassuring parents and the bleeping of monitors.
And as each parent pulls the curtains around their space retreating into that sense of isolation and perceived safety, they hope for sleep.
Tonight the wee boy in the bed opposite Evan tonight is not in a good place, bleepers are going, Doctors and nurses are working, xrays are ordered and reviewed, the Bed Manager is contacted to see if there is a bed in ICU where he has just come from a few hours ago - all this proves how fickle life is, what a great and often thankless job or NHS does, and what a blessing it is to watcg Evan sleep sound in his bed as the activity beyond our curtain intensifies.