It's a trend

In our run-up to the big eye test (again) tomorrow (or Wednesday, you never know with the neonatal opthomologist) we've continued to follow the blood gas tests rather religiously, hoping that they will continue to show a dropping baseline of CO₂, which will give us more hope as to the likely success of the extubation attempt that is forthcoming. I remain very (cautiously) optimistic, especially because these tests show that Woody's levels are, if not continuing to drop precipitously, showing a new baseline that is considerably lower than previous levels. Last night's showed a CO₂ level of 60, which is within the same generally good ballpark as the last couple, and with the bicarb level of 31, shows continued progress in that area. I think we have a good trend going of improving blood gases, and it's pretty clear that we're going to give Woody another chance at an extubation instead of going straight to trach.

Woody's Grandma Stiffler held her big annual Corn Feed yesterday, and for the first time since it started I missed it, due to a run-in with a truly nasty digestive bug. I believe it was due to a bit of close proximity earlier in the week with my nephew (the littlest disease vector) Leo, and if my previous bouts with flu and cold the last few months didn't clue me in to the fact that I've got to be careful around that dude, this attack of dysentery or cholera or whatever sure reinforced these lessons. Which is really sad, considering how much I like seeing him and his family, but I have got to start thinking about not passing on even the normal little bugs of childhood to Woody this early, because he's starting life with a deck stacked against him from an immune system point of view, so we need to be really vigilant about the threats out there.

So anyway, I understand from Maggie that a lot of people at the Corn Feed were interested in Woody issues, and I'm glad of that. Still others didn't know what was going on, so there was a lot of interesting comments like 'where's that baby of yours?' But my favorite story on those lines had to be the cousin of Grandma Stiffler who managed to miss the whole thing entirely, asking Maggie if she had even been pregnant. I suppose it's easy to not notice someone's pregnancy if they deliver before they're really even showing.

Anyway, I'm now feeling a lot better and am back in the NICU waiting room, listening to the usual cacophony of bizarre comments and conversations. For the last half hour, I've been inadvertantly overhearing a dad ask his two year old every three minutes whether he's pooping in his pants, which the kid continually denies. I swear I will never do this. I swear it!