I know... I'm sorry... it's been too long!!

Hey everyone, I'm so sorry for not updating my blog for a few days.  I know some of you have been a bit worried about me, but all is well in incubator number three!  Truth is, I was getting a bit worried about Dad... someone told me that he was posting the links to these blogs on Facebook and Twitter after midnight every night, then when I saw him on Friday he looked knackered, so I told him to take a few nights off.  Don't fret though, I've been keeping handwritten notes so you won't miss anything (the pen looks huge in my tiny fingers!)

Let's start with the progress...




...right, that's the progress out of the way now let's cover the stuff that hasn't really moved forward at all in the last three days!

My apneas (random not-breathing moments) have become a regular, almost predictable feature of my daily routine.  Despite all the prodding and poking going on no-one here is any the wiser as to what is causing them.  This has now become such a regular feature of life in Coventry NICU that whenever a baby has an unexpected de-sat the staff here have started referring to it as 'doing a Poppy'!  I'm going to add it to my medical dictionary.

There has been some small progress I suppose - I'm not currently under (or above) the Bili-light but I'm having another blood transfusion tomorrow (yes another one!) so my poor liver is going to be overwhelmed with new red blood cells again.  I'm prepared to bet any one of you a tenner that I'm back in the tan shop with my blindfold on by this time tomorrow night!

On Saturday the baby next to me was transferred to another unit and replaced with a giant!  It looked a bit like me in so far as it was pinkish, and seemed to follow broadly the same design, but let me tell you it was MASSIVE!  I asked mum to sneak a look at the label on the end of the incubator to check out what it could possibly be and what do you know, it was a baby!  It weighed 9lb 8oz!  I'm sorry but putting that next to me is just taking the mickey - talk about rubbing salt into the wound - this thing could have swallowed me whole!  Giant baby didn't stay long, which was good because it also cried really loudly and kept me awake.  When I'm bigger, I'm not going to cry like that... and I'm going to sleep all night for at least ten hours... and... what else was that Dad?  Oh yes, I'm only going to shit strawberry smelling poo in my nappies!

Millie watched the monitor...

Sunday was a good day.  I had my usual breathing issues but late in the afternoon Dad came in with Millie again.  It was really cool to see them both and it got even better when Jess (top nurse!) suggested that it was time for Dad to have a cuddle - with me, not her!  Dad opened the top four buttons on his shirt (steady girls!) and I was popped inside.  It was bit different from my mum cuddles!  First up there were no feeding nozzles, which was a bit of a disappointment, and it was nowhere near as comfy, but it was still brilliant.  Dad had his back to the monitors so Millie was put in charge of observations.  At one point my oxygen dropped to less than 50% but Millie helped Dad to prop my chin up and I recovered all by myself.  After that, we settled down and I had half an hour of proper Dad bonding (with a bit of sisterly chat thrown in too).  I can't wait to do it again!  By the time I was back in my incubator it was late and Dad was in trouble because it was a school night and Millie should have been home in bed... but none of us cared.

This is a worry!

Charlie went back to nursery yesterday and Dad was at work so Mum came in on her own about ten o'clock just as I had a big de-sat and needed to be bagged.  Mummy lost it and got all emotional!  I told her to get a grip... and she did.  Once she'd recovered Mummy showed me this picture of my brother.  I think it was meant to cheer me up but frankly, it's a worry!

There's a bit of a debate going on about whether I should go back on to the ventilator or not but for now I'm staying on C-PAP with some extra pressure.  Latest theory is that it might be reflux that's causing my problems so they are going to try giving me some medicine to see if that helps.


You're nearly up to date now but I just need to tell you about last night's scary moment for mum, and then I can't finish without mentioning Dad's latest Mr Bean moment!

So, last night first... Mum was on her own at home because Dad was away for work, when the house phone rang at 12.30am!!  It had to be the hospital!  Mum jumped out of bed in a panic, fearing the worst!

'Hello?'
'Hello, this is the NICU.'
'Yes', panic rising.
'Poppy's had a de-sat.'

This was followed by a very long pause until a very worried Mum eventually said,

'What's happened?'
'That's it', said the nurse, 'Just thought you should know.'

Dad reckons that in the right circumstances Mum is more than capable of lifting a fully grown person (say for example, a nurse) and dropping them from a great height (maybe a hospital window) onto a hard surface.  Luckily for the nurse she was on the other end of a phone and was off duty before Mum arrived this morning!  I'm sure she had the very best of intentions but the late night call scared poor Mummy to bits...

Right, last thing then I'm going to practice my breathing for a bit.

Back to last Friday.  Dad came in on his own and the ward was unusually busy.  Two of the inmates (sorry, babies) were playing up and all of the nurses were busy.  Dad went through the visiting routine: removed watch, scrubbed hands, applied gel, put milk pots in fridge, came over to bed three, pulled up a wheelie stool, opened hatch and generally annoyed me for a bit!  To be honest, I was fast asleep when he arrived but he soon had me awake with his 'Hello Poppeeee!' and his tickling!

Two little pedals!

On the very bottom of the incubator units are two little pedals - one to raise me and one to lower me.  Dad's seen the nurses use them and figured it looked pretty straightforward and as he was sitting on the stool, it seemed like a reasonably good idea to lower me down to eye-level.  So he stood on the down pedal and to be fair, it all appeared to work just fine.  I felt myself dropping very gently and after a couple of inches I stopped and Dad started cooing in my general direction again.  So far so good.

Except there was a problem.  After a couple of minutes the red warning light above my bed started to bing gently.  Everyone ignores this one.  It's not an emergency, it just means that there's a temperature problem.  In this case the message underneath the red light said 'Baby Cool', which I like!  Normally one of the nurses pops over and resets the lights and sure enough after a couple of minutes one of the nurses tried to reset it... but it wouldn't reset!  It was at this point that another nurse came across and noticed that the lid of my incubator was precariously balanced about two inches above the top of the walls leaving a sizeable gap all the way round!

Four accusatory eyes landed on Dad who was sitting guiltily on the stool looking for all the world like a naughty schoolboy and before the inquisition could really get under way he owned up to pushing the pedal.  I was just beginning to feel sorry for him when he decided that the best way to make up for being the cause of the problem would be to help to fix it!  And before anyone could really stop him he tried to jiffle the lid back on.

It fell back in to place with such a bang that most of the ward jumped - never mind me!

A big star jump!!

I shit myself... and did the biggest horizontal star jump anything under a kilo has ever done.  I tried to keep breathing - honestly I did - but even grown ups would have struggled.  I was bagged.

Dad had been on the ward for about four minutes!  I do love him.



Poppy Lola xxx