Poopy Lola

Hi everyone!

I have news... and lots of it!

As it's been a while since I've updated my diary - don't blame me it's all my Daddy's fault - so I should probably start with a quick summary to bring you up to speed.  (We can do the detail later!)

Daddy loves this picture! x

• I'm breathing air
• I'm breathing air without any assistance
• I'm drinking milk from a bottle
• I'm drinking milk without any additional fortifier being added
• I'm no longer on TPN
• I'm pooing!
• I'm pooing without having suppositories shoved up my nether region!
• I'm gaining weight (slowly)
• I'm on an A4 Special Care sheet - not the A2 Intensive Care sheet
• I'm waiting for a Special Care bed to become available for me in Warwick
• I'm very proud of myself!

Gosh!  When I write it all down like that it looks fantastic but it's not all been straight line progress.  As you would expect from me, I've kept everyone guessing along the way and there have been a few moments during the last week when it looked as though I was going backwards but overall it's been a very good week.

When I finished my last diary entry I was 'nil by mouth' and being fed TPN through a tube.  My belly was still swollen and I was waiting for a 'contrast' x-ray to be organised - so it wasn't looking good.  For the first few days my milk feed was slowly increased (very slowly in fact).  It took about three days for me to get back up to the required amount and all through this time my number twos were stubbornly refusing to make an appearance.  My belly was beginning to grow again.  In the meantime, the doctors had consulted with the radiologists who couldn't find anything on my normal x-rays to suggest that anything was wrong so the plan was changed.  Instead of having a barium x-ray, I was going to have a biopsy.

I heard the doctor explaining this to Dad.  'Basically' he said, 'we just use a suction pump to pull up a bit of tissue (from up my arse!), then we snip it off'!  He was very casual about the whole thing, he could have been talking about the weather!  Once again I mustered all of my energy to try to suggest that maybe there was another way but all that came out of my mouth was a soft gurgling sound which Daddy and doctor took to mean that I was happy to go ahead.  So much for Human Rights!

I realised that I was going to have to demonstrate progress... and fast... or the men in white coats were going to take me to Leicester for a bit of casual mutilation.

Luckily, things began to improve around this time.  I was given a suppository to coincide with Daddy's Saturday visit and duly delivered a beautiful load for him.  I was still on high-flow but most of the time I was breathing air through it with just a bit of pressure.  The pressure is measured in litres on high flow (don't ask me how this works) and I had moved from 4 litres down to 1 litre by Sunday.

Cuddles with Mummy

Look... I'm breathing!!!

Sunday was the big day.  I had a brilliant nurse looking after me who decided that this was the shift when I was going to make some big progress, and before you could even say 'profound desaturation' she'd taken the high flow away completely.  It was day 74 and for the first time in my life I was breathing air without any artificial assistance!  I had a huge cuddle with Mummy in the afternoon and then Daddy came in later and I had a huge cuddle with him too. I can't tell you how brilliant it was being able to snuggle up to them without having those prongs stuck in my nose...

Excuse me!  I'm pooing!

To finish the day off with another positive flourish, I surprised Daddy by pooing again when he was changing me.  This was a huge shock to everyone as no medical intervention had taken place - I'd pooed all by myself!  Can I just say at this point that in my efforts to reach this milestone I may on occasions have pulled a few ridiculous faces - a girl needs to push sometimes - and I know my Daddy has taken some photos, so if you ever see them on this blog you will tell me... won't you?  I don't trust him an inch!

Over the next few days I carried on drinking my milk, I carried on pooing, and I carried on breathing - all essential survival techniques!  My long line was taken out of my arm too, so the only tube left in is my feeding tube (for when I get tired on the bottle).  I'm still connected to the monitors just in case I forget to breathe, or my heart stops, or my oxygen drops... but hey, better safe than sorry!

Got the T-shirt!

And that in a nutshell is where I'm at.  I still de-sat a bit when I feed or when I'm a bit tired (still 'doing a Poppy' every now and then) and my belly is still a bit big but I think I've done enough to convince everyone that I don't need to be biopsied in Leicester.  All the talk now is of a move to the Special Care Unit in Warwick and do you know what, this time I think it's going to happen.  We're just waiting for a bed to become available and then the transport team will move me over.

I've been in NICU for 78 days, that's two and half months!  Maybe I'll be out before I get to 80 days... you never know.  My next Diary entry might be written in Warwick!

Thanks by the way, for all your very kind comments about my rap in the last blog.  Several of you asked how I came to be so familiar with the works of Robbie Williams, given my short and sheltered life so far, and seemed to be suggesting that Daddy might have somehow been involved.  Well I confess, it's true.  When no-one's listening, he quietly opens up the door to my incubator, hides his i-phone under my blanket and let's me hum along to his favourite tunes.  It was Wham! on Sunday but don't let on I told you!

Jeff Gorvette...! (Thanks Charlie!)

Charlie was in again at the weekend and brought in his Cars (from the film!) so I also had the indignity of meeting Jeff Gorvette for the first time.  I tried to explain that I really prefer Jessica Rabbit, etc. but Charlie wouldn't listen... and I had to pose for the photo to keep him happy.

Finally, you may remember my Daddy was alarmed about the stockpile of breast milk that was accumulating in the freezer at home.  Well the situation has apparently now become critical with 100% of available freezer space now given over to breast milk storage, forcing Daddy to consider radical options.  He's been Googling (whatever that might be!) and he's found this...!

Cheese anyone??

Lots of love and hugs!

Poppy Lola xxx