
For the next four days nothing much happened, really, aside from regular daily blood tests, discussions with the pediatric unit staff and a pediatric gastroenterologist, and an ultrasound of Tate's liver. This was at times emotionally exhausting, frustrating, frightening, and overwhelming, as you can imagine. As each day passed, however, the likelihood of something extraordinary and seriously wrong with Tate's liver diminished because the enzymes were trending downward (thankfully), but their cause remained (and as of today, remains) a mystery. The best news came with the ultrasound, which indicated that Tate's liver structure was normal and healthy, and showed no signs of a missing or malformed gall bladder, spleen, or bile ducts, any one of which would have certainly required immediate surgery. Because the liver's structure appeared healthy, the next most likely scenario was that Tate had somehow contracted a liver infection (literally a hepatitis) of some sort, which was causing the elevated enzymes. This remains the notion under which we are currently operating. I'll find out Thursday morning if Tate's enzyme levels have dropped on their own, which will essentially confirm the diagnosis of an infective, and that Tate's body is taking care of it for him. As with any virus, there's little to be done, really--it just has to run its course. So the likelihood that we'll ever know what Tate has had is increasingly remote. This is just fine with me.
A week or more ago I was talking with my dad about how Tate's bilirubin levels were still elevated, and how we were feeling grateful but frustrated by the constant necessity of the biliblanket that we had been using to reduce his bilirubin levels. We were talking about how people frequently gripe and complain about "how stressed out they are" with everyday circumstances--I certainly have been one of these people on more than one occasion--when real stress in fact lies in the concerns regarding the health of a new baby. It's certainly given me a few grey hairs recently.
Tate is 25 days old today, which hardly seems possible. 7.5 of those 25 days have been spent in the hospital--at his birth and for his most recent liver concern. Half of these days he's been connected to the biliblanket, which effectively kept us tied to the house. On 20 or so of his 25 days, he's had blood drawn from his feet, his arm, or his groin. We are extraordinarily grateful that Tate's liver ultrasound indicated it was healthy; it means that the scariest of the possible diagnoses is increasingly remote. We're also really grateful for all of the good thoughts and prayers of friends and family as these days have transpired. They have helped buoy our spirits and make us feel encouraged during it all. Thank you.
Here's a recent picture of the boy, tough guy that he is.

5 comments:
Tate has been a little trooper - and so have his mom and dad. We're very relieved and pleased to have you all back in your happy home. Thanks for keeping the supply of pictures coming. We especially like the one in which he's yelling. :) Love you - B&V
We hope that you two and Tate get good results today, and that you have some days of pure joy, the three of you.
Oh, I think he's yawning, Mom. But either way, I like it too.
Oh..... that's even better. I thought perhaps he was protesting his recond number of lab tests, but now I see that it's a yawn. So sweet. Love, Grammy (?)Vicki
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