Some months ago I thought I’d hit a low in my life when my then 7 week old daughter had to undergo surgery for intestinal invagination. Well, this midsummer’s eve was even worse. Natalie had been sick for almost two days. We had called the hospital, which told us that the flu was at large among small kids in Stockholm right now, and that we had nothing to worry about. The second day she actually seemed to be better. She got to keep some food. Well, two hours after eating she started vomiting again. She didn’t even get to keep water, so we went straight for the hospital. At the hospital they gave her antibiotics and put her on IV since she was dehydrated. Sure enough – X-rays showed that the intestines were obstructed and we went by ambulance (again) to Karolinska (the hospital where the surgeons for infants are located).

When we arrived at the hospital, she was fairly lucid but weak. They connected her to telemetry equipment monitoring her heart rate and oxygen levels and then we went for another round of X-rays. That’s when the scariest moment in my life so far happened. We were almost done with the X-rays when the Natalie’s oxygen saturation levels started to crash. The nurse standing next to Natalie got stressed out and yelled “Call the doctor. Call him now!”, while running for an oxygen bottle next to the entrance to the room. She started giving Natalie oxygen whilst rather incoherently discussing with one of the other nurses what emergency code to use on one of the handsets. During all this I was standing next to the X-ray machine, holding Natalie’s hand. My mind was racing to horrible conclusions and I was thinking “shit, ohpleaseohpleaseohplease, nononono, I really can’t loose her”. I glanced at Malin, and she looked just about as terrified as I felt. I watched the oxygen work it’s magic, and the saturation levels started to improve.

They put a probe through her nose down her stomach, through which they sent contrast fluid. Then they took X-ray images every now and then to find out where the obstruction was. The diagnosis was Ileus, and they decided surgery was necessary. Once they opened her up, they couldn’t believe how bad it was. She had, after all, been fairly lucid during all this. They had to cut away 90cm of her small intestine.

Now we’re at home again, and they expect her to make a full recovery, despite the heavy surgery. I’m just glad it is over, and I pray my lovely little daughter never have to go through something like this again. Ever.

I’ve started running folding at home on all my computers, including the server and the PS3. Since my connection is a bit sluggish, it will probably not be that noticable anyway.  😉

For more information, see http://folding.stanford.edu/. Donate a few cycles and be part of the world’s biggest super-computer! It’s all for a good cause!

Last 32 hours have been a nightmare. Malin called me at work around 10 a.m. yesterday and told me Natalie wasn’t herself. She was really lax and not responding. I immediately took the bike to the drug store, bought a breast pump and went home. After spoon-feeding her some milk it looked like she started to come around. She didn’t get to keep the milk for long though. We tried a few times, but every time we tried she vomited after a little while. We called the doctor who told us to bring her in.

At the hospital (SöS) she got some routine anti-biotic treatment and they took a lot of different tests. When we changed diapers, we discovered quite a bit of blood in her feces and they put us in a room for observation. Later she underwent a battery of X-rays. The X-ray was probably not so traumatic for Natalie, but holding her tiny little body beneath that X-ray machine really broke my heart.

After getting the results from the X-rays, Natalie had to get an ultra sound examination. The ultra sound revealed intestinal invagination – part of the intestines had folded in on themselves (telescoping).

They wrapped Natalie up in blankets and strapped her to an ambulance stretcher. Malin and Natalie went by ambulance to another hospital (Astrid Lindgren’s) where the pediatric surgeons in Stockholm reside. Natalie looked so tiny and cute on that stretcher that I’d probably have laughed if circumstances would have been different. I followed in my car.

At Astrid Lindgren’s the specialist put her in another X-ray machine and the team started filling her with contrast fluid. Sometimes the pressure from the contrast fluid can be used to make the intestines sort themselves out without having to resort to surgery. She had some morphine in her drip by then, so she didn’t seem to mind terribly.

In this case it worked out, and they never had to cut her open. The procedure was done by 3 a.m. in the morning. By this time Natalie was totally exhausted from all the vomiting, the morphine and the contrast fluid procedure. They kept us for observation and we stayed the night. Today we arrived back at home. A little while ago we were, probably for the very first time, immensely happy to find that she’d done #2. A lot.

Less than two days ago my daughter Natalie was borne. She is 51 cm tall and weighs in at 3850g. Malin, Natalie and I are all exhausted from the experience, but otherwise fine.

She is the cutest little thing and has already managed to wrap me all around her tiny little finger.