2003 Journal Links

Archie looked great this morning. His orange skin tone is subsiding and he is actually beginning to look pink! The baby had a crying jag when the respiratory therapist was suctioning out his nose and his cheeks turned red. It’s so good to see color in Archie’s face.

When I called back to the NICU desk this morning I was asked to wait until the nurse and lab technician finished drawing blood for a CBC (complete blood count). After what seemed like an eternity, Archie’s nurse for the day, Bea Hess, came out to take me back to see Archie. Bea told me that Jill, the nurse who put in Archie’s PICC line last Saturday, said that Archie is the “toughest stick” yet. Since they couldn’t hit any other veins, today’s CBC came out of a vein in Archie’s scalp. I know that I should only worry about today, but I’m concerned that Archie’s veins may create problems during his surgery. Hopefully Archie’s veins will “grow” a little before his surgery date arrives.

The baby slept peacefully for most of the morning. When I got back from pumping in the breastfeeding room, Archie was awake, looking around and moving his hands and arms. He and I visited with each other for about 45 minutes. It was fantastic. The little guy and I even prayed together for the first time, saying a few “Our Father’s” and “Hail Mary’s.” I figured it couldn’t hurt.

Dr. Hayes came to examine Archie while he was still awake. “Archie, did you know that in 2003 doctors still treat prematurity with acupuncture?” the doctor asked while looked at the baby’s many needle stick marks. Dr. Hayes talked with the little guy some more and asked him how his breakfast was this morning. “Grits and bacon? Straight to the tummy through a feeding tube.” he offered. “Does it taste good?”

Dr. Hayes said that even though the baby’s liver still felt low, Archie’s white blood cell count was in the 30,000 range for the second day in a row. This count is the lowest Archie has had since his birth, and points toward the transient diagnosis. The doctor also shared with me that he doesn’t think it’s necessary to test Archie’s blood for white blood cells every day anymore. “He looks so good, Mom,” Dr. Hayes commented.

When Archie feel asleep again I watched his chest rise and fall peacefully. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the baby breath so easy before.

Dr. Ferlauto examined Archie around 12:45 p.m. Dr. Ferlauto visits the babies in order of medical priority, so the later the doctor sees your child the better off he or she is. After our fair share of early morning exams, I don’t mind waiting to see Dr. Ferlauto until lunchtime.

Dr. Ferlauto said that the little guy looked great as far as he was concerned. He explained that Archie’s blood cultures looked good with the exception of the chronic low calcium. Dr. Ferlauto also said that Archie’s blood gas was the best ever this morning. He also explained that he and Dr. Horne looked at the baby yesterday afternoon and that both think that the low positioning of Archie’s liver is not related to the heart failure but instead related to Archie’s blood issues. Dr. Ferlauto also confirmed that even though Dr. Horne altered the dosage of Archie’s Captipril that both he and Dr. Horne feel the baby’s heart failure is under control.

Dr. Ferlauto said that he’s going to have an endocrinologist exam the baby to try to get to the bottom of the chronic calcium deficiency. “You’ve met every other specialist. Why not one more?” the doctor joked.

“We don’t discriminate,” I said, laughing.

Dr. Ferlauto, also laughing, then joked, “Then I get to control another specialist!”

I then asked Dr. Ferlauto what the odds were of Archie having DiGeorge syndrome, a condition attributed to an abnormality of the 22nd chromosome, which the doctors had kicked around in an effort to explain Archie’s calcium deficiency. “Slim to none,” the doctor said, smiling. “That’s why I held off ordering the F.I.S.H.” He explained that he called Dr. Rogers, a geneticist John and I visited with after receiving our amnio results, and that Dr. Rogers felt Archie only had a one in a few thousand chance of having two chromosomal abnormalities. “But then again…” Dr. Ferlauto said, gesturing toward Archie and laughing.

“Figuring out the puzzle that is Archie,” I offered. “Our little medical marvel. We should buy a lotto ticket.”

“You should,” the doctor agreed.

But the best news of all is that Archie is being discharged from intensive and sent back to the intermediate side of the NICU. I don’t know when we’ll be able to try to feed the baby from the bottle again, but I’m glad that Archie is making another step toward coming home.