Tag Archives: odin

the eric update – day 80: ROP surgery

day 80: rop surgery. I.

little odin is relaxing before his ROP surgery. he’s had an intravenous line inserted into his arm which will allow his caregivers to give him fluids and the drugs which will put him into a state known as “conscious sedation”.

day 80: rop surgery. II.

nurse maureen is applying the drops that will dilate his pupils. while he tolerates the first application of the drops quite well, he lets everyone know after the third round of drops that he’s had enough.

day 80: rop surgery. III.

it’s 4 p.m. eastern time u.s.a. which means that it’s time for him to get rolled down the hall to the surgical room.

day 80: rop surgery. IV.

they’re prepping him for surgery by simultaneously removing his clothes, attaching a blood pressure cuff and injecting him with ketamine and versed which are the drugs that will hopefully keep him calm during the procedure.

day 80: rop surgery. V.

while it’s nice that the ketamine and versed allow him to have the procedure without being “intubated” and put on a ventilator, he’ll be so relaxed that he’ll forget to breath, so they’re watching his vitals closely. they warn me that he’ll have a few “deep” apneas ( forgetting to breath ) and they’ll have to revive him via a “bag” ventilator.

day 80: rop surgery. VI.

in case you were wondering, they do in fact keep all the laser equipment in a craftsman toolbox.

day 80: rop surgery. VII.

the drugs are doing their thing and he’s falling fast, fast asleep. i can’t help but wonder how many micropreemies fall fast asleep and never wake up.

day 80: rop surgery. IX.

yes. when you’re waiting around for the opthamologist to finish a phone call, you might find yourself passing the time with the nurses by placing “laser goggles” on your son while he’s sedated.

hey – you find levity where you can, trust me.

soon after this picture was shot, they started the procedure and kicked me out. much to my surprise, the doctor called me back in before he was finished so i could watch the final “burns”.

he told me several times that he had never, ever invited anyone in to watch him work so i think it was quite a privilege. i didn’t get any pictures because i had to wear “laser goggles”, but it was fascinating to watch him work. years ago i used to do delicate surgical work on fruit fry larvae ( maggots!) under a microscope, so i have an appreciation for how tight the “tolerances” can be and i was grateful that dr. droste broke his personal rule and allowed me to watch him work.

day 80: rop surgery. X.

as well as anyone can tell, eric made it through the ROP surgery relatively well. he had a few deep, apneas which is a known side effect of the drugs given to him to induce conscious sedation. they warned us ahead of time, but you never get used to seeing your son turn a deep color blue as you dig your fingers into wall while they seconds tick by. i’d like to say that he’ll never have to have ROP surgery again and that he’ll forever escape any permanent damage, but we won’t have any good answers those questions for about a week.

i waited until two hours post-op to snap the picture because i think it might have been a bit too much to bear for people to see just how puffy his eyes were immediately after the procedure. he also had a severe bout of apnea at about an hour post-op so i wanted to give him plenty of time to recover after turning a deep blue color. in this picture, he’s bright red and quite flushed, which is a side effect of the ketamine.

the doctor had to make about 1,500 “burns” in each eye, but he admonished me to not focus ( no pun intended ) on the absolute number of burns, but rather to note the overall “take rate” which indicates how many of the burns were effective. he likes to have a take rate above 90% and unfortunately, he said that eric was more “challenging” than he had anticipated and thought that he had a take rate closer to 80%. the lower take rate was due to the fact that eric’s lenses are cloudy because of a normal developmental process that should resolve itself in a few weeks; the cloudiness makes it difficult for the laser to make effective burns. he was able to get the take rate that he got only after turning up the power of the laser, but he can only turn the power up so far before risking collateral retinal damage.

day 80: rop surgery. XI.

he noted that the disease had progressed since even yesterday and the plus disease ( the really dangerous part ) was a little more moderate that he liked to see and that there was still a 30% chance that he’d need additional surgery. but he didn’t think eric would have any problems recovering quickly and said the he could have the hernia surgery tommorrow for all he cared ( each time he talks with us, he changes his story about how long it’ll take to recover, so i’m guessing he’s doing his version of managing our expectations ). so it looks like we’ll be moving quickly on to learning all about hernia surgery and back on schedule for a release.

many, many thanks to everyone who showed their support in whatever way made sense to them. rop surgery is relatively routine as far as nicu surgeries go, but new intravenous lines, dilation drops, “conscious sedation” drugs and high-powered lasers all provide many opportunities for things to go wrong. certainly versed is nothing to fool around with and having used ketamine in the past to put rats under before i removed their hearts ( don’t ask ) i know how, er, challenging it can be to dose correctly. small changes in body fat and metabolism can radically alter how long it lasts and we’d often have rats waking up in the middle of the operation. in fact, the doctor implied how difficult it is to dose accurately by stating that he gets done when the kids starts to move. in any case, it means a lot for us to see so many people in his cheering section.

in the photo, it’s about 4 hours post-op and he’s just started to stir as the drugs wear off. of course, mama is close by, ready to console him.

the eric update – day 79: ROP, apparently very, very real.

day 79: nestled in his blanket

due to the facts that the new nicu is a little cooler than the old one and eric doesn’t have that much baby fat, little odin needs a lot of help keeping warm, so we decided to bring in a blanket that he received as a baby shower gift. it’s quite big, but it does a great job of keeping his temperature at acceptable levels. but of course, how well he maintained his temperature was the least of our concerns today.

day 79: ROP assessment.  I.

right before his ROP assessment, kris talked to him and explained what was about to happen.

it’s hard to tell in the photo, but the opthamologist had called ahead and they’ve put drops in his eyes which dilate his pupils and make him very sensitive to light. defying expectations, he didn’t seem too bothered by the drops.

day79: ROP assessment. II.

soon after his quality time with mama – his opthamologist, dr. droste, examined his eyes by placing a magnifying glass over each eye and looking into them. although we held out a small amount of hope that his condition was apparent, but not real, the good doctor concluded after a few minutes that the disease was progressing quite quickly and he’d need surgery soon to prevent complications such as blindness. eric now has stage 3 ROP with plus disease in all “twelve hours” of zone 2 in both eyes. my understanding is that the severity of the “plus disease” is necessitating the fast action. plain vanilla stage 3 ROP doesn’t always require immediate surgery, but when the blood vessels become engorged or abnormally dilated it’s best to act quickly to prevent permanent damage.

tomorrow, the doctor will put a laser on his head and tap a button on the floor which will ablate ( or in opthamologist lingo, “burn” ) over 1,200 overgrown and abnormally tortuous blood vessels in each of his retinas. amazingly, the whole process is expected to take about an hour. despite the advanced stage of the disease, the doctor thought that eric had a good chance of escaping any permanent damage.

day 79: ROP assessment. III.

perhaps due to the lingering effects of the drops that dilate his pupils, eric is convering his eyes and looking like he’s pondering his new predicament, as he musters the energy to cleanly clear his latest hurdle.

in an oddly calming tone, the opthamologist said that they needed to do the surgery soon because even in just a few days they’d be “playing catch up”, which is certainly not something you want to be doing when the stakes are eyesight. it’s interesting to note that stevie wonder was born premature and went blind from the same disease, but much progress has been made in how to treat the disease since stevie lost his sight.

the good news is that they caught the condition so quickly. although his opthamologist said he had seen similar cases where the disease progressed so quickly, he professed that, “it didn’t happen very often.” and the really good news is that there must have been a miscommunication the other day because he expects eric to recover quickly and the ROP surgery shouldn’t significantly delay his release date! there’s a good chance that he’ll need additional surgeries, but he doesn’t need to stay in the hospital for monitoring.

if everything goes as planned, after a few days of recovery from the eye surgery, they are going to take advantage of the fact that he’s already where he needs to be and schedule surgery for his hernia. hernia surgery is relatively routine ( although i know one reader in particular who could speak at length at how things can get un-routine pretty quickly ) and it also is not expected to significantly delay his release. so, if we can make it though a surgery or two unscathed, we’ll be back on track for an early release, if not quite as early as we originally planned.

if you’re so inclined, think good thoughts or say a prayer for us around wednesday at 4 p.m. (eastern time, u.s.a.), as we hope that dr. droste hasn’t decided to have one too many cups of coffee.

the eric update – day 78: saying goodbye. and hello. postcards?

since i have absolutely no free time, i’m going to try something new and only put a placeholder entry here. perhaps i’ll get a chance to put a more detailed account here later. or perhaps not. but for now, i’m just going to give the bullet points there are more important things to attend to.

i apologize to everyone who called yesterday who didn’t get a call back. obviously, cell phone time is short and i’m basically in “triage” mode and only returning emergency calls. after a whole bunch of voicemails it became apparent that there was some confusion about eric’s eye surgery. he was being transferred today ( monday ) and will have an assessment on tuesday. if he moves from being “prethreshold” to “threshold” then he’ll need surgery within 72 hours. the quick move was made because the expectation is that he’ll move quickly into threshold land and everyone wants to be prepared for that event. we don’t know exactly when he’ll have the surgery in the event that it’s required and i won’t have that answer until later tommorrow.

day 78: little feat

as eric gets close to transfer, the nurses get the proper paperwork in order. amidst the release forms i discovered an identification form that has his footprints that were inked on his first night in the nicu.

they sure were small. about as small as nickel.

day 78: leaving bed four

eric made great leaps and bounds while staying in “bed 4” in the nicu, which seemed like a perfect number since he’s eric “the fourth” born on the fourth of july.

we would later discover that he would be sitting in bed 4 at the new nicu, which makes us think that “4” just might be his lucky number.

day 78: reading the numbers

according to the rules that one must follow when tranferring a baby from one nicu to another, the nurses must corroborate that he is, in fact, who they think he is and read match the identification number on his nicu ID bracelet with the number on the transfer papers.

i’m foiling their best efforts to match the ID numbers by telling jokes and they’re laughing heartily.

day 78: saying goodbye to nurse nancy.

nurse nancy is superfantastic and she spent much of the day trying, unsuccessfully i might add, not to cry. eventually i was able to capture her with her “happy face” on.

nurse nancy was eric’s nurse for many of his “big steps” including being transferred to the isolette and the open, unheated bed and his first bottle feeding, so she’s very, very attached to eric.

day 78: saying goodbye to he, himself.

this is charles, “charlie” winslow – eric’s neonatologist. he’s the reason why eric is alive and words can’t really describe how highly we think of him.

he’s a nice guy, a great communicator and rides a bike to work.

day 78: nicu transport. I.

after the transport team arrives from the new nicu they quickly put eric in the transport “crash cart”. the whole process only takes a few minutes.

his “saint mary’s” nurses are standing around looking sad and i wish there was more time to say goodbye.

day 78: nicu transport. II.

little odin is resting comfortably in the crash cart, oblivious to the fact that he’s, ever so briefly, about to see the outside world for the first time.

day 78: nicu transport. III.

part of the transport team from the new nicu is talking with kris and nurse cathy b. the man on the left is the ambulance driver. the woman standing next to him is a neonatal nurse practitioner who is chatting with kris and nurse cathy b.

day 78: nicu transport. IV.

more people from the transport team. the man on the left is a respiratory specialist and the woman on the right is a registered nurse.

they’re amiable and do a great job making us feel relaxed. somehow, during the quick process of getting odin prepped for tranfer i find myself talking with the respiratory specialist about digital cameras. go figure.

day 78: nicu transport. V.

and they’re off!

little odin gets wheeled out of the nicu on his way to the elevator and the waiting ambulance.

day 78: at the new nicu. I.

we weren’t able to ride in the ambulance with odin, so we arrived shortly after he was put in his new bed.

he seems to be welcoming us with a hand wave as if to introduce us to his new surrounds.

day 78: at the new nicu. II.

of course it’s not long before he’s resting comfortably on mama’s chest.

day 78: at the new nicu. III.

in one of the many differences between the two nicus, eric gets weighed before and after nursing in an effort to more accurately determine how much milk he’s ingested. in theory, the practice should help us to make sure that he’s received enough nutrition, but the scale claims that eric has lost two grams after breastfeeding. so much for accuracy.

oh. i guess i should note that eric is gaining weight so fast that it’s almost starting to freak me out. he tipped the scales at at 4 pounds 9 ounces or about 2075 grams. that’s right – he gained 2 ounces over the last 24 hours and over 5 ounces in the past 48. while everyone is suitably impressed, it’s not good to put that much weight on that quickly, so my guess is that they might reduce the amount of fortifier in his breastmilk soon.

day 78: at the new nicu. IV.

eric’ new bed is stainless steel and the temperature of nicu is a lot cooler than we’re used to which help to add to a sterile, antiseptic feeling.
the new nicu is quite different from the old in many, many ways. while “saints” was small, at 15 beds, little odin’s new home is enormous, with over 100 beds. it also gets a lot of sick babies that are transferred from many different places so it has a much different feel. it’s odd to be thrust into the new environment, trying to adjust quickly to the new rules, while walking around and seeing so many babies with shaved heads and drainage bags, presumably alleviating pressure after brain surgery. the nicu is cooler, literally and figuratively and is much more antiseptically clinical. in a weird way, it also feels like we’ve transferred from the ‘jewel in the rough’, small, personal liberal arts school to the large, top tier, big 10 school. the veneer looks more impressive, but it also seems like it could be quite easy to get lost in the shuffle. time will tell.

uh. so, it looks like i’m incapable of writing a ‘placeholder’ entry.

day 78: at the new nicu. V.

despite all the changes, eric continues to chug his botttle feedings while continuing to look very relaxed.

because the new nicu is kept at a cooler temperature, it’s more important to keep a knit cap on his head and cover him in blankets.

many people have asked me about where they can send postcards. it seems that little odin’s quick transfer has revealed all the procrastinators in the crowd 🙂 for now, if you’ve sent a card that’s already in the mail, i’m sure the staff at saint mary’s will keep it until i can find time to come and pick it up ( in fact, i think they were happy to hear that i’d be back to pick up postcards which would give them an opportunity to hear about eric’s progress ). i don’t know the new nicu’s policy , so i can’t say whether or not people will be able to send stuff there ( i’ll find out more today or tommorrow ). i’m not ready to post my home address on the internet ( i’m not really sure why, since it’s quite easy to sleuth it on the the internet. ), but i’ll probably come up with a solution sooner rather than later. as always, thanks so much to everyone who has sent us or plans to send us a card ( or more! ).

the endless kindness of strangers ( and friends and family, of course ) never ceases to amaze me.

the eric update – day 77: a baby shower. rop, apparent but not real? a metric milestone. 11 weeks!

day 77: baby shower. I.

today, 77 days or 11 weeks after little odin was born, we had our baby shower. thanks to the hard work of kris’ sister, gina, and her partner, diane, many people came and had lots of good food to eat. we had a great time and received many, many great gifts, but of course, given the circumstances we had a tough time not dwelling in his eric’s impending transfer to the new nicu for eye surgery.

day 77: baby shower. II.

many people came to the baby shower – this is one shot of a few of the friends and family that came to the event hanging out in our living room.

day 77: baby shower. III.

i’m intently reading a card while ruby, our niece, hands us gifts.

day 77: baby shower. IV.

kris unfolds a blanket for odin, while i look on. dig those crazy dark circles under my eyes. i don’t always look like that. honest.

day 77: baby shower. V.

on the left you can see diane, who – despite being very, very pregnant, organized our baby shower and for that we are very, very thankful.

day 77: baby shower. VI.

a shot of kris’ brother, his wife and one of their children – jagger.

day 77: baby shower. VII.

i didn’t take this very cute picture of our nieces, ruby and ella. they like playing together.

day 77: baby shower. VIII.

another shot, not taken by myself, of ruby – looking very cute.

day 77: baby shower. IX.

kris’ brother with his son, our nephew.

day 77: the explanation.

i might have some of the details incorrect because i haven’t had a chance to talk at length with eric’s opthamologist, but my understanding is that eric is “pre-threshold” and “8 hours” into ROP which is technically stage 3+ and primarily developing in zone 2. if you think of the eye as a dartboard, the optic nerve is the bullseye and is zone 1 and there’s a ring around the the optic nerve which is known as zone 2. there are 4 stages of the disease and stages 3+ and 4 can lead to the formation of scar tissue on the retina, vitreous hemorrhage, and retinal detachment. by saying that eric is “8 hours” into stage 3+ disease, his opthamologist is not telling us that he’s been at that stage for a third of a day, but rather if he’s giving us an indication of hos quickly the disease had progressed. if you were divide the retina into 12 hours, he’s telling us that 8 “continuous” hours show signs of being in stage 3+ of the disease. he only needs to show signs of disease in “3 hours” to be considered “prethreshold” in zone 2 ( as the disease progresses, you move from being “prethreshold” to “threshold” which means you need surgery within 72 hours ), so it doesn’t appear that they are making a marginal call and transferring him unecessarily.

day 77: more hair than yesterday.

or does it.

after spending much of the day trying to come to grips with how his disease could have progressed so quickly, eric’s neonatologist paid us a special visit late in the evening ( on his time off, no less ). we’ve come to expect the going to get weird whenever we see him at odd hours ( he’s a great guy, but as you can imagine he’s A Very Busy Man ) and this visit was no expection.

after stating the appropriate amount of caveats , we found ourself listening to him explain that they could never not do what they were doing because they can’t ignore the results of his latest eye exam – but that fact didn’t stop him from holding out hope that eric’s ROP was not nearly as bad as the evidence would lead his opthamologist to believe. sounding much like a zen master he stated plainly, “you see, it’s apparent, but it might not be real.” in medicine in general and neonatology specifically, sometimes a test will show something to be very apparent, but all one’s instincts tell one that it’s really not real, and in this case, his instincts are telling him that eric’s ROP might not be real.

normally, ROP progresses relatively slowly and it’s fairly unusual to have severe disease appear so quickly when they were monitoring it so closely. in fact, it’s so uncommon that he’s only seen it a handful of times in his many years of practicing neonatology. and every single time it’s happened, the diagnosis was preceeded by a recent blood transfusion, which is exactly what eric received just six days ago. but in his experience, micropreemies that present the disease as eric is presenting who have also received a recent blood transfusion often have the disease disappear or at least significantly regress. his theory is that for whatever reason the blood tranfusion engorges the eye’s blood vessels in a way that makes the ROP apparent, but not real. he stated quite frankly that eric’s opthamologist would not agree with his theory and that it didn’t change the fact that they needed to treat eric as if he were going to need surgery soon, so the discussion has an academic flavor to it. but it’s a bit of hope and i guess in a week we’ll have the benefit of hindsight to know whether or not his theory is true or if it’s just a kooky prognostication by a neonatologist who likes to second guess the opthamologists ( i mean that in the best possible way, if he’s reading this 🙂 ).

day 78: saying goodbye to nurse cathy b.

we said teary goodbyes to some of the night nurses, as they won’t see his again after the transfer tommorrow early in the day. unlike some nicus, eric has had many of the same nurses for his 77 day stay at “saints” and they gave up not getting attached to him a long time ago.

when we came back from lunch today we found eric’s nurse, cathy b, cuddling with eric because she knew it was one of the chances she’d get before he got transferred to the nicu. it was a sweet, touching moment. cathy b’s own son is named eric and she never tried very hard to disguise how much she truly enjoyed caring for our eric.

she sat with us for a long time today and shared stories about her life. we’ll miss her very much and she’s a great example of why saint mary’s nicu is unique.

she doesn’t have to cuddle with our son while we’re away for lunch, but she does because she’s a great nurse and a fantastic person.

day 77: saying goodbye to theresa

theresa was his nurse tonight and, ironically, she was also his nurse on his first night.

she’s sad to see him go the the new nicu for surgery and holds him for one of the last times before he gets transferred in the morning. we’re sad too, because we like theresa a lot.

she asks us if we’d like to give him a bath so he’s fresh and clean before the big move and we decide that we’d like her to have the honor. we can tell from the look in her eye that it means a lot to her and, really, it’s the least we can do to repay her for all her hard work at helping to keep him alive.

we won’t soon forget his nurses and i suspect they won’t forget him either.

day 77: a metric milestone

amidst everything else, eric continued to do what he’s been doing so well on his 11 week birthday – eating and gaining weight. he’s still guzzling bottles at breakneck speed and he tipped the scales tonight at exactly 2 kilos or about 4 pounds 6.5 ounces.

the eric update – day 76: the curse of the nicu.

day 76: the curse of the nicu

a micropreemie mom once told us to never let them know that they’ll be going home soon because they’ll always find a way to prove you wrong. “don’t tell them until they’re strapped into the car seat.” she said.

“it’s the curse of the nicu.”

just yesterday, standing next to eric’s bed, his neonatologist wanted to remind us just how remarkable eric was doing and said with a beaming glint in eye that he had never, not once in his 27 years of practicing neonatology, released a 24 or 25 weeker before their original due date.

“but eric definately won’t be here in two weeks.”

none of us could imagine just how true that statement could be and yet still be so wrong.

this morning, after weeks of passing his retinophathy of prematurity tests with flying colors we discovered that the disease has appeared and in progressing much more quickly that is normal. unfortunately, it’s progressing so quickly that he will need to be transferred to a specialized facility on monday ( originally they were going to transfer him on sunday, before i doth protest too much since that also happens to be, cruelly enough, the date of our baby shower ) to prepare for eye surgery. he’s back on the nasal cannula and supplemental oxygen because it can help slow the progression of the disease before surgery.

in a staggering bit of randomness, he initially passed his exam today and as the eye doctor was leaving he decided to put fresh batteries in the light he uses to shine in odin’s eyes. fresh batteries and a brighter light revealed the seriousness of the situation.

while i had expected him to develop some form of the disease since it’s so common in micropreemies, nobody had expected it to get this badly this quickly, considering the nicu’s otherwise stellar track record of ROP outcomes. you know it’s a shock when even the nurses start crying.

perhaps even more devastating than the news of the surgery itself – the eye surgeon told us to not expect him to come home for about 6 more weeks.

veteran nicu parents know that this is a classic example of one of the last exciting twisty turns on the micropreemie rollercoaster, but that doesn’t make it any easier when your right in the midst of the ride.

the eric update – day 75: no clarity on the plummeting platelets. expensive babysitters. hearing good!

day 75:  post feeding paci

there’s not too much new to report today on the plummeting platelet and elevated bilirubin issues. his direct bilirubin dropped quickly back to its previous mildly elevated levels which is being interpreted to mean that the spike was due to the blood transfusion. so that’s good news. however, his platelet count dropped another 10K and his hanging around 60K. the good news is that it’s not dropping anymore. the bad news is that it’s not increasing and there’s no clear evidence yet as to what might have caused the drop. if you squint at the graph of his platelet counts over the past couple of weeks, you can maybe see a decline that’s tough to discern through the noise which finally becomes apparent when it drops quickly below 100K. a gradual decline would fit into the theory that posits that the bone marrow was gradually shifting production away from platelets and towards red blood cells before his transfusion to help satisfy the demand for RBCs. thankfully, he’s not presenting with any other signs of a viral infection, which you might remember could also be causing the abnormal lab results.

day 75: hands crossed while sleeping on stomach

eric really likes sleeping on his stomach and the nurses like to put him there, which might come as a shock to those who are familiar with the “back to sleep” campaign which discourages placing kids on their stomachs in an effort to reduce the chance of sudden infant death syndrome.

while he needs to be watched extra closely while lying on his stomach ( all the more so because micropreemies have an increased chance of SIDS ), the nurses all think it’s silliness to take things to an extreme and never put a baby on their stomach to sleep. amongst other things, sleeping on the stomach helps to strengthen important neck muscles that don’t get stronger if a baby is left on his back or sides all the time. but that is easy for them to say when they have the advantage of being notified by alarm when he stops breathing. unlike most parents.

kris and i actually spent very little time in the nicu ( and by very little, i mean less than 5 hours 🙂 ), which felt quite strange. the nurses have become much more assertive with their recommendations that we take advantage of the world’s most expensive babysitters while we still can and finish up all the unfinished business that needs to get done before little odin comes home.

oh. i almost keep forgetting to mention that odin passed his hearing test with flying colors!

the eric update – day 74: still breathing on his own! plummeting platelets. elevated bilirubin. questionable meds?

day 74: still breathing on his own!

he’s still breathing on his own after 36 hours! after 72 days of various forms of respiratory assistance, it’s hard to believe that he may finally be free of supplemental oxygen.

and he’s still eating like a champ, taking all his feeds via a bottle and nursing twice a day. while his official minimum feeding requirement is 40 cc’s in 30 minutes, he seems to enjoy drinking whatever we give him and then a bit more. during his 9 p.m. feeding he drank 50 cc’s in 25 minutes! woohoo! not surprisingly, all the breastmilk is helping him to continue to gain weight and he tipped the scales tonight at 4 pounds 3.7 ounces or 1920 grams.

unfortunately we received the results from two lab test that are a bit of a concern and could potentially delay eric’s release from the nicu. first, after two weeks of watching his elevated “direct bilirubin” level closely, it’s not only not going lower but it’s rising, which is somewhat disconcerting because the predomominant theory being bandied about by his caregivers was that the elevated levels were related to being switched back and forth between IV feeds and breastmilk; according to the theory, after he was on full feeds of breastmilk the levels would gradually decrease, but that’s obviously not happening.

day 74: the big, blue big boy outfit

secondly, his platelet levels are dropping to dangerously low levels. a normal platelet count might be between 150,000 and 200,000 and his results from this afternoon came back at 70,000. this is such a low level that his neonatologist immediately ordered a new test to rule out a lab error. the second test indicated that his platelet count was 60,000.

the elevated direct bilirubin and decreased platelets are cause for enough concern that he’s being put on “increased surveillance” which means they’ll run blood tests more frequently ( which also means that he might need another transfusion since they need to draw blood for the tests ).

as always, there are multiple Educated Guesses that could possibly explain the lab results. his increasingly elevated direct bilirubin levels might be due to his latest blood transfusion, since transfused blood cells die more quickly than “regular” blood cells and direct bilirubin can be a by-product of the red blood cell death. his diminished platelets might be related to the fact that his hemoglobin levels were so low before his transfusion. bone marrow is responsible for producing both red blood cells (RBCs) and platelets and it only has so much capacity to produce both entities. before his transfusion, it’s possible that his blood marrow kicked the production of RBCs into overdrive and slowed down making platelets. or, more scarily, he might be getting a viral infection, which could decrease his platelet count and increase his bilirubin levels. or he could be having an adverse drug reaction to the reglan and zantac which he had been given to help control his reflux. the neonatologist told us this evening that decreased platelet counts are a known occasionally adverse effect of both drugs.

so, for the next 72 hours we’ll patiently wait for the results of his bloodwork and wait for his caregivers to put together a more coherent picture of what might be going on. interestingly, eric’s neonatologist was leaning towards thinking that the increased bilirubin was due to the transfusion and the decreased platelet count was caused by an adverse reaction to the reflux meds. if that’s the case, then we are all the more grateful that my sister, candy, quickly alerted us to the fact that both meds were potentially dangerous. a quick follow-up from regular reader and frequent commenter, katra convinced us to immediately request that the meds be discontinued. at the time that we we asked that his meds be discontinued, the neonatologist was gracious and didn’t make us feel uncomfortable for expressing our concerns, although he did make a point to say that he didn’t think that adverse events were very common. i guess we should be happy that he’s not too proud to be admitting just a few days later that the meds might be the cause of the problems.

hopefully we’ll have more more definitive answers soon.