Max had a pretty good day. Dr. R2 got a little too aggressive with the compressed feedings. He tried 75 MLs over thirty minutes this morning and afternoon (big barfs), and scaled it back to 75 MLs over 45 minutes (another big barf). Ugh, the devil IS in the details. If we can just get his feedings straightened out and get him to consistently gain weight, he can come home. Well that's only partially true, because Dr. R2 wants reassurance that Max won't cause another breathing scare or bloody emesis scare. I sure am feeling like it's time to come home. The entire NICU was in contact isolation last week (for the staff only thank goodness) because of a water-borne bug I'd never heard of. On top of that, Family #4's daughter was recovering from a staph infection. I feel so paranoid walking around the NICU. I should invest in Purell as much as I go through in a day.
Tomorrow brings another round of blood counts, liver function tests, etc. Max has looked so good I can't help but think his numbers will reflect it.
Nothing wrong with having an old soul. :)
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