Leo Has a Setback
Mar. 19th, 2006 11:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
One of Leo's tissue expanders may have to be removed prematurely. We are all kinds of upset.
After Leo's operation, we thought that he might have an infection. He seemed crankier than usual, he was running a low-grade fever, and the skin over one of the tissue expanders seemed abnormally warm. The surgeon prescribed an antibiotic, though, and Leo seemed to feel better almost immediately. The fever and crankiness disappeared, but we of course gave him the full week's worth, ending Friday.
On Saturday, however, while getting Leo ready for his bath, we noticed some pus oozing from the incision associated with that expander. The incision hadn't opened up—rather, the pus was coming out through one of the holes where the stitches were still in place. I dabbed it with a wad of toilet paper, but more came out immediately.
Lauren called the surgeon, who told us to try to get out as much of it as we could. By the time we were done, we had got a lifetime's supply of pus out of our child. At least it didn't stink.
Leo, for his part, got fed up rather quickly with the poking and squeezing, but he doesn't seem uncomfortable in the least. He has no fever, and he's generally his normal, cheerful, active, insane little incontinent self. Still, he's back on the antibiotics, a different one this time "to confuse the bacteria," as our surgeon1 put it.
So, we have an appointment with the surgeon first thing in the morning. He says that there's only about a 20% chance that we can save the expander, but that's better than no chance. The problem, he explains, is that bacteria have come in contact with the tissue expanders. Because the expanders are foreign objects inserted into our child, they have no blood supply, which means that the antibiotics have no way to get to them.
Unfortunately, removing the expander would mean subjecting Leo to procedures over and above what we had expected:
1I like Leo's surgeon a good deal, but he's one of those surgeons who is so utterly focused on surgical matters that other things—such as, for instance, when he's actually going to perform the surgery—often get by him. He's also very much a WASP, with more middle names than might be considered strictly necessary.
He and I are are both Yale grads, and we seem to have bonded over that, but we come from Yales of different eras. He went to Yale at a time when they limited the number of Jews they'd admit because they were afraid we'd take over. I went to Yale at a time when they were glad to have all the Jews they could find because we were the only thing keeping the Asians from taking over.
After Leo's operation, we thought that he might have an infection. He seemed crankier than usual, he was running a low-grade fever, and the skin over one of the tissue expanders seemed abnormally warm. The surgeon prescribed an antibiotic, though, and Leo seemed to feel better almost immediately. The fever and crankiness disappeared, but we of course gave him the full week's worth, ending Friday.
On Saturday, however, while getting Leo ready for his bath, we noticed some pus oozing from the incision associated with that expander. The incision hadn't opened up—rather, the pus was coming out through one of the holes where the stitches were still in place. I dabbed it with a wad of toilet paper, but more came out immediately.
Lauren called the surgeon, who told us to try to get out as much of it as we could. By the time we were done, we had got a lifetime's supply of pus out of our child. At least it didn't stink.
Leo, for his part, got fed up rather quickly with the poking and squeezing, but he doesn't seem uncomfortable in the least. He has no fever, and he's generally his normal, cheerful, active, insane little incontinent self. Still, he's back on the antibiotics, a different one this time "to confuse the bacteria," as our surgeon1 put it.
So, we have an appointment with the surgeon first thing in the morning. He says that there's only about a 20% chance that we can save the expander, but that's better than no chance. The problem, he explains, is that bacteria have come in contact with the tissue expanders. Because the expanders are foreign objects inserted into our child, they have no blood supply, which means that the antibiotics have no way to get to them.
Unfortunately, removing the expander would mean subjecting Leo to procedures over and above what we had expected:
- One to remove the infected tissue expander;
- One to remove the remaining expander and to excise part of the giant nevus;
- One to insert another set of expanders; and
- One
ring to rule them all and in the darkness bind themto remove the last set of expanders and excise the last of the giant nevus.
1I like Leo's surgeon a good deal, but he's one of those surgeons who is so utterly focused on surgical matters that other things—such as, for instance, when he's actually going to perform the surgery—often get by him. He's also very much a WASP, with more middle names than might be considered strictly necessary.
He and I are are both Yale grads, and we seem to have bonded over that, but we come from Yales of different eras. He went to Yale at a time when they limited the number of Jews they'd admit because they were afraid we'd take over. I went to Yale at a time when they were glad to have all the Jews they could find because we were the only thing keeping the Asians from taking over.