Zinc, Giggles and Goodbyes

A friend of mine went to a Down syndrome clinic recently and commented on a few young women who were particularly short. The nutritionist at the clinic said that was because of a zinc deficiency. Zinc deficiency = short stature? Apparently so. Our doctors bought it anyways. Of course you know me, I don't want to miss out on anything, so I started asking questions. The nutritionist here agreed that zinc is related to growth and although they're not sure why, it seems that people who are low on zinc tend to be shorter. While Chelsea has good, tall genes, she still has Trisomy 21, which works against her "tall" genes, so I am all for keeping her zinc up. I was told, no side effects, it can't hurt ... so I'm game. She'll be starting zinc tomorrow. Once we go home, I'll have to buy it over the counter at the drug store.

If you've been following our story since the beginning, you may remember she was on zinc during round 1. The nutritionist noticed in the beginning a zinc deficiency and recommended we use a supplement. Once she started getting her awful rash though, we stopped giving her the zinc just in case it was causing the reaction. The pharmacist was sure it wouldn't be the zinc, but we were trying to eliminate anything that was new to her system. Eventually we did narrow it down to a mere reaction to one of the chemotherapy drugs (unfortunately a drug she had to receive EVERY single round). We never did revisit the zinc issue again though. It's as if it was off the radar, and now, during round 6, when I bring it up, nobody even remembered she was on it in the first place. It's called follow-up people. Seriously.

Completely oblivious to any zinc deficiency, Chelsea continues to thrive here on 4 Henson. She was in a particularly cheerful mood this evening. She ran (literally, ran) up and down and up and down the halls for about an hour giggling ... loudly. She was so loud, I was afraid one of two things was bound to happen. Either a child here in the hospital, who is actually sick, would get annoyed and complain about the noise, or ... they would perhaps decide Chelsea is just too healthy and send us packing. Fortunately noone complained, and unfortunately they didn't think sending us home was going to work out either. *sigh*

And in other 4 Henson news, the 'accreditation' team is in the hospital this week, and was on our floor today. I'm not sure what they're really called in a hospital, but I do remember an equivalent group of educators touring, visiting, and observing at schools I previously worked at. One word to describe the staff during that week, stressed. Everyone is on their best behavior. Too bad Chelsea didn't get this memo. She was breaking all the rules. Drinks in the playroom, no ID band on her ankle, and she even barged into the nurse manager's office during their meeting with all of these important people. I just grin and think to myself, I'm glad I'm on the other side of the table this time and don't have to worry about anything.

Finally, I want to say good bye to a special friend from here on the floor. Another one of our child-life specialists left us today. We're sad to say goodbye to her, but I'm confident she has lots of wonderful endeavors ahead of her. She will make a difference regardless of where she is. I really liked her, not only b/c she shared my name ;) but b/c she is so incredibly good at what she does. She totally 'gets' kids. She's flexible. Enough said. She also really made Chelsea's 'end of chemo' party very special. With little notice, she gathered gifts, a cake and lots of friends to join in the fun. And did I mention, she found all the beads I needed to created a 'beaded journey' for Chelsea. Chelsea gets a bead for each procedure, transfusion, admission etc. and I didn't start collecting them until round 6, so it was quite a job, but Carrie did it for me with a smile! Thank you for everything, we'll miss you! I don't think she'll mind, but here's a picture of her and Chelsea today.




And for fun, here's Chelsea being terribly cute, listening to her her own heartbeat.