Latest news with #NICU


CNN
2 hours ago
- Health
- CNN
Texas girl thriving after fish skin helped heal her wound as a preemie: ‘I call her my little mermaid'
When Krystal DeVos watches her young daughter, Eliana, play with an Ariel doll, her eyes fill with emotion. 'I call her my little mermaid,' DeVos said of her daughter. Shortly after Eliana was born, it was the healing power of fish skin that helped her recover from a deep wound on her neck. 'Eliana actually has no idea,' said DeVos, who lives in Corpus Christi, Texas. 'Of course, as she gets older, we do want to go back and show her pictures and explain to her what has happened, because it is a part of her story and it's so unique.' Eliana's story began about three years ago, when she was born at 23 weeks gestation, weighing a single pound. She spent 131 days in neonatal intensive care units, during which she developed a life-threatening infection on her neck that caused a severe wound. 'It was almost like a flesh-eating disease, where her body was targeting something there in her neck,' DeVos said. As the infection grew, Eliana developed sepsis, the body's extreme response to an infection, causing some of her organs to shut down. Day after day, DeVos and her family consistently prayed for Eliana to recover. Then the medical team told her about a surprising treatment option. On day 86 of her NICU stay, Eliana was transferred from her local general hospital to Driscoll Children's Hospital in Corpus Christi. She received several medications to treat the infection at both hospitals, including antibiotic therapy. But it was at Driscoll that fish skin became a novel part of her wound care. 'It's microscopically so close to human skin that it helps the wound start to heal,' said Dr. Vanessa Dimas, a pediatric plastic surgeon at Driscoll who treated Eliana. When Dimas first met Eliana, she knew that she would need to do two things: remove the buildup of dead skin tissue from the wound and cover it with some type of treatment to help healthy tissue grow back. But the more traditional approaches – like surgery or a human skin graft – were either too risky or not feasible for a preterm infant like Eliana. Her condition was too fragile. 'She was a premature baby, the wound was very extensive, and she was pretty sick, so I did not feel like it was safe to do a surgical procedure on her,' Dimas said. Instead, Dimas and her colleague Roxana Reyna, a wound ostomy nurse practitioner at Driscoll, used a medical-grade honey solution to clean out the wound. Then they applied a mixture of that honey with fish skin to cover the area. The fish skin – a medical product made from wild North Atlantic cod and manufactured by the Icelandic company Kerecis – provided a scaffold, or a type of platform, for new skin tissue to grow. Some of the omega oils and other natural elements from the fish skin helped contribute to the healing process, Dimas said, adding that 'once it basically does its job, helping the wound heal, then it sort of just melts away.' Potential risks of this fish skin treatment include reactions in children with fish allergies; for infants, it may not be known whether they have an allergy at all. 'That would be the biggest risk: an unknown allergy that could potentially cause some problems,' Dimas said. 'Other than that, there's still a chance that the kid may need surgery, because we don't know how much this is going to help us heal the child.' But for Eliana, the fish skin treatment was well-tolerated and appeared to promote healing. Fish skin has been used for wound care in people around the world, but its use in children – let alone infants – remains rare. In March, Dimas and Reyna presented data about their approach for preterm infants at the European Wound Management Association Conference in Barcelona, Spain. They talked about two case studies: Eliana and a critically ill preterm baby with an abdominal wound. 'Eliana weighed 3 pounds on the day we applied the fish skin graft,' Reyna said. The other patient weighed 1 pound during their treatment. 'Since Eliana, now we have been able to feel confident enough to use it in even smaller babies,' Reyna said. Driscoll Children's Hospital says Eliana's care team appears to be the first to implement Kerecis fish skin in wound care for a single-pound preterm baby. Reyna and Dimas have been recognized for their work, and because of their innovative use of the product, Kerecis has invited them to share their clinical insights in public forums. The concept of using fish skin to help heal damaged tissue in humans has been around for years, but it's still not a very common practice, said Dr. Arun Gosain, chair of the American Academy of Pediatrics' Section on Plastic Surgery and division head of plastic surgery at Ann & Robert H. Lurie Children's Hospital of Chicago. 'There are so many different options' for wound treatment, depending on the depth and severity of the wound, he said. Some approaches involve tissue from other types of animals. 'There are other forms of what we call xenografts, or taking tissue from another species and using it for wound healing,' said Gosain, who was not involved in Eliana's case. For instance, skin from pigs has been commonly used in wound care, as well as collagen from cattle. 'Xenografts may have potential in the future, but they're not used for skin replacement. It's only used for a biologic dressing currently,' he said. Biologic dressings help to temporarily cover wounds and support the natural healing process, essentially aiding in either the wound healing on its own or preparing it for a surgical treatment to close it. For example, someone who has a 'full-thickness wound' – meaning it extends through all three layers of the skin – that isn't healing on its own could benefit from some type of temporary biologic dressing, Gosain said. In that scenario, 'I could use pig skin,' he said. 'We would put that on there as a biologic dressing, realizing that it won't regenerate skin, but it will keep the wound clean until we're ready to transfer the patient's own skin, in some form, to close the wound, whether it be a skin graft or other such thing.' In their case study, Reyna and Dimas described Eliana as having a 'full-thickness wound,' but after three days of the fish skin treatment, they noted 'dramatic results.' They continued to change her dressing every three days, and after the wound was cleaned and dead skin tissue had been removed, it healed in 10 days after the first fish skin mixture was applied, with minimal scarring, according to the study. 'There were no adverse reactions, and additional surgical interventions were unnecessary,' they wrote. Three years later, Eliana's scar is so faint, it's barely noticeable. DeVos said she was inspired by watching fish skin promote the healing of her daughter's wound, and she hopes Eliana's story can help contribute to the world's understanding of fish skin as a medical tool. 'What I hope people take away is that we can be grateful for modern medicine and the power of faith,' she said. 'Never be fearful to try something new. Always be open-minded and just have faith,' she said. 'If something sounds different or you've never been exposed to it before, just take a chance and have a little faith. And in our case, it worked out really great.'
Yahoo
17 hours ago
- Health
- Yahoo
Gym equipment lugged up mountain for charity
More than 200 people from a fitness group and their families have taken part in a charity challenge to lug 1680kg of gym equipment to the top of Pen y Fan and back again. Women from Commando Bootcamp, based near Bristol in Yate, South Gloucestershire, took part in the ascent with family members on Saturday in aid of the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) at Bristol's Southmead Hospital. They have previously taken part in several challenges, including a half marathon while carrying white goods in aid of the homeless in 2024. Bootcamp member Sian Donoghue said the latest challenge had raised more than £5,000 for the unit, which had helped look after her son Jack when he was born at 23 weeks old. "He was quite premature and it was quite a shock to everybody," she said of her son, who spent two months in the NICU before being allowed home, but sadly later died. "That was out of everyone's control and since [then] everybody has been so supportive," she said. Ms Donoghue said raising money for the unit had been "emotional", especially as other women in the bootcamp had also spent time with their children there. "Everything that goes on, it's incredible because I don't think people see, unless you've been in there, you don't see what NICU does for people." She added: "It's not just the fact that they are incredible to your child. "They're incredible to any family member that's in there. The nurses and doctors become your family," she said. "All the little things that you never see, so all the things that comfort a baby, they've got it all and that all has to come from somewhere and the only way they really get it is by fundraising," she added. Ms Donoghue said she had joined the group after the Covid-19 pandemic and they had since raised about £46,000 for local charitable causes over the past four years. Despite the weather being "horrendous" for their challenge, Ms Donoghue said it had been "amazing" to see everyone come together. "The amount of people that were donating, it was really lovely," she said. Follow BBC Bristol on Facebook, X and Instagram. Send your story ideas to us on email or via WhatsApp on 0800 313 4630. 'Once you start you can't stop' - Fitness fundraiser Friends climb peak in memory of man killed in Gaza Soldier carries rowing machine in peak challenge


BBC News
18 hours ago
- General
- BBC News
Yate group lugs gym equipment to Pen y Fan summit for charity
More than 200 people from a fitness group and their families have taken part in a charity challenge to lug 1680kg of gym equipment to the top of Pen y Fan and back from Commando Bootcamp, based near Bristol in Yate, South Gloucestershire, took part in the ascent with family members on Saturday in aid of the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) at Bristol's Southmead have previously taken part in several challenges, including a half marathon while carrying white goods in aid of the homeless in member Sian Donoghue said the latest challenge had raised more than £5,000 for the unit, which had helped look after her son Jack when he was born at 23 weeks old. "He was quite premature and it was quite a shock to everybody," she said of her son, who spent two months in the NICU before being allowed home, but sadly later died."That was out of everyone's control and since [then] everybody has been so supportive," she Donoghue said raising money for the unit had been "emotional", especially as other women in the bootcamp had also spent time with their children there."Everything that goes on, it's incredible because I don't think people see, unless you've been in there, you don't see what NICU does for people."She added: "It's not just the fact that they are incredible to your child."They're incredible to any family member that's in there. The nurses and doctors become your family," she said."All the little things that you never see, so all the things that comfort a baby, they've got it all and that all has to come from somewhere and the only way they really get it is by fundraising," she added. Ms Donoghue said she had joined the group after the Covid-19 pandemic and they had since raised about £46,000 for local charitable causes over the past four the weather being "horrendous" for their challenge, Ms Donoghue said it had been "amazing" to see everyone come together."The amount of people that were donating, it was really lovely," she said.


The Guardian
2 days ago
- Health
- The Guardian
‘Men are not expected to be interested in babies': how society lets new fathers – and their families
Dean Rogut was holding it together. He had become a father for the first time, but it had not gone to plan. At 12 weeks pregnant, his wife was put on bed rest. At 24 weeks, their son, Max, was born. As the weeks went by, things were hard. There were times when they thought they might lose Max. Throughout that period, in and out of the NICU watching their tiny baby, Rogut took 'the very male supporting role'. He supported his wife. He was the point of contact if anyone needed to know what was going on. But it felt as though he was in a sensory deprivation tank. He became detached from everything and anything. 'I was very much in survival mode – but trying to keep everyone else sort of above water.' Staff would check in and ask, 'How's mum doing today?' No one asked about how Rogut was doing unless his forthright wife told them to. His friends would get in touch, but there wasn't much they could do. About halfway through the 121 days Max spent in hospital, his wife was diagnosed with postnatal depression, which helped her access support. 'But yeah, there was nothing really for me.' Max was born in March. He came home around July. The new family got into a routine. Rogut was problem solving, helping his wife. He had friends around him. It would have looked to the outside world that he was doing OK. That he was being a good dad. 'I didn't realise how bad I was until about November, December when I hit the wall.' He became clinically depressed, suicidal. He checked into a hospital. A baby is a beautiful thing. But for decades, after years of advocacy, researchers and health systems have recognised that the arrival of a baby can also be a challenging, traumatic, disorienting thing for new mothers. Up to one in five mothers experience perinatal anxiety or depression. As a result, women are screened for their mental health at metronomic points throughout the orchestrated health path from confirmation of pregnancy through to their infant's routine immunisations. Maternal mental health remains a serious problem, but one for which a system exists. Sign up for a weekly email featuring our best reads There is no such system for fathers. And an increasing body of research shows about one in 10 fathers experience serious mental health issues in the period before and after their child is born. It is also showing that the impacts of this are not just devastating for the fathers, but for their partners and their children. 'We don't have a community where we wrap our arms around fathers in the same way that we do around mothers in the early stages,' says Deakin University Associate Professor Jacqui Macdonald, convener of the Australian Fatherhood Research Consortium. 'Instead the language is around fathers being a support for the mother. There's not a discussion about who the support is for fathers.' It means that fathers, like Rogut – but not limited to those who have had traumatic experiences – can slip through the cracks. When you think about the challenges facing a first-time father, says Associate Professor Richard Fletcher, who leads the Fathers and Families Research Program at the University of Newcastle, 'the context for him having the baby is one that's like being in a desert and not even being aware of how thirsty you are, but there's no water anywhere'. 'The dads are isolated from pretty well everything.' It is not a phenomenon limited to Australia. Dr Sharin Baldwin conducted a systematic review on perinatal mental health in the UK in 2018. 'What stands out most is how often men feel invisible or excluded in the perinatal period,' she says. Meanwhile, they were dealing with challenges associated with changes in identity and their relationship, financial pressures and work-life balance. Not much has changed since then, she says. 'Many men suffer in silence during one of the most significant transitions in their lives.' 'Families don't work as individuals, they work as systems. So if one part of that system is really struggling, the rest of the system isn't going to be working as well,' Macdonald says. 'If we can care for the father, then the father does provide a better source of care. The father becomes a partner of the healthcare system in supporting the mother and child, but that's not possible if we haven't cared for the father as well.' The figure of 10% of new fathers experiencing mental health difficulties, such as anxiety and depression, is an estimation. One reason, says Macdonald, is 'we don't really have proper screening anywhere for new fathers'. The second is that male depression often looks quite different from perinatal depression in women. 'What we do find is very high correlations between feelings of anger. It doesn't necessarily mean that they're aggressive, it just means that there's an internalised sense of anger,' she says. It may be adaptive, 'a sense [in fathers] that there's an energy there to manage; to fight against this feeling of depression and sadness – but it needs support.' A recent systematic review of paternal coping identified in fathers a cohort of what Macdonald calls 'dual copers' – men who look as if they are doing really well but have underlying unaddressed unease. 'These dual copers in men often are also engaging in avoidant behaviours. Things that are distracting, things that will reduce the emotional intensity of the feelings that they're having, and that may include things like alcohol use.' The review echoes findings from Baldwin in the UK: 'For fathers, distress may show up as anger, irritability, or conflict, and through avoidant behaviours like working excessively, smoking, gambling or increased focus on activities like sports or sex.' When Macdonald and a team tracked a Covid cohort of dual copers, the study found higher rates of depression over time than among other fathers. 'But everyone looks at them and thinks 'Oh, you seem to be doing alright … We won't dig any deeper,'' she says. 'And my fear is that's where we start to see risk for suicide.' The way society expects fathers to engage in domestic life has undergone a fundamental shift within the last 30 years. 'Couples before birth say what they want is a more egalitarian arrangement,' says Fletcher. 'The community's changed quite a bit but the system around dads hasn't changed. That makes it hard for them to be clear about 'Well, what's my role, exactly?'' The message to fathers about the role they are expected to play, from antenatal care to the way Australia structures parental leave, Fletcher says is: 'Well, we think it's pretty small.' Sign up to Five Great Reads Each week our editors select five of the most interesting, entertaining and thoughtful reads published by Guardian Australia and our international colleagues. Sign up to receive it in your inbox every Saturday morning after newsletter promotion While couples entering into pregnancies often expect egalitarian parenting, the fundamental cultural preparation for being a parent is often different for men and women. 'There's been this lifetime of socialisation towards motherhood for women, and less so of that for men,' says Macdonald. 'The social environment is one where men are not expected to be caring for babies or interested in babies,' says Fletcher. This can make the transition to parenthood difficult for men. It is well established that men frequently take longer to bond with their babies than women. But the work of addressing that, says Fletcher, cannot be left up to individual men, operating in a vacuum. 'People think we've really got to get those dads to change their attitudes and be more egalitarian. That's the task. Whereas I would say we've got to change the system surrounding conception, pregnancy and birth so that it's assumed he's part of it.' Caring and earning dynamics established early in family life can be difficult to untangle, and can cause long-term conflict when the reality of the division of caring does not cohere with the vision parents had when entering parenthood. Both parties can feel disappointed, says Fletcher – though women often more so, left literally holding the baby if their partner retreats into work, or hobbies, or alcohol as a way of coping with their own distress. The chasm between parents' expectation and experience, between fathers' needs and support, leaves families fumbling. They're asking, says Macdonald: 'Why does the system not respond to what we do as a family and what we need?' 'My hope is that we're seeing a potential tipping point … where we see the family as a system; where we see both parents as providers, not just fathers, which means both parents are also protectors, both parents are carers, emotional caregivers.' But that needs intervention. 'The simple thing' that governments could do, says Fletcher, is screen new fathers for anxiety and depression. 'I think that's a basic fundamental thing.' The NHS in the UK introduced screening for fathers by health visitors when their partners had already been identified as having perinatal mental health problems. Baldwin says it is a positive step, but is only part of the solution. 'What we really need is a broader cultural and systemic shift that normalises support for fathers.' Often when one asks new fathers how they are doing, they are reluctant to identify that they are struggling. Their response, says Fletcher, is: ''No, look after her.'' It is a mistake to attribute this to the father's sense of the need to preserve a stoic masculinity, he argues. 'The evidence says that they're not so much thinking about that they want to be tough and super masculine, but they care for their partner.' They can see that their partner's needs are most acute. 'They're not thinking, 'Oh, what about me?'' This means the need for services which are specifically targeted towards fathers. A recent trial of an app which asked fathers to track their moods and offered cognitive behavioural therapy interventions, developed by Dr Sam Teague at James Cook University, found an improvement in fathers with anxiety, stress and even those with severe depression. Fathers also reported improved relationships with their partners. Likewise Fletcher, with a team, developed a father-specific mobile-based information support service called SMS4dads which has more than 18,000 fathers signed up. A feasibility study for the service in 2019 found that fathers using the app improved their relationship with their baby and partner, and reduced their sense of isolation. Fletcher and Macdonald say the field of advocates and researchers invested in fatherhood is growing, but efforts to support fathers and their families are still often quite piecemeal. Macdonald advocates using the universal GP system, and encouraging men in the early stages of fatherhood to attend routine mental and physical health checks – 'just full-on dad checks across that period of time'. 'A number of practitioners have told us they don't feel as confident working with fathers, but once there's training to do this, they feel very confident,' she says. One program working to skill up health practitioners, including GPs, Men in Mind, has recently been given funding to expand. Both Macdonald and Fletcher also say restructuring the parental leave system to allow fathers to be primary caregiver for a period is fundamental to the health of fathers and the families they are part of. Dean Rogut's son is now a teenager. With the passage of time, Rogut has become able to share his experience. For a few years, around the time of his son's birthday, tensions would be high in his home, the relationship would struggle. Now, he is a community champion for perinatal mental health service Panda, and even as he trawls through the darkest of his memories, he comes across as confident, open. Things have changed for fathers in the last decade, he says. 'We know this happens and there's more of a spotlight on it,' he says. What might have been different if he had been viewed as someone who needed help, too? 'I don't think I would have ended up in hospital, to be honest,' he says. He may have received support before he reached his crisis point. 'It's all those kinds of things that we look back on and think, 'If only'.' In Australia, the crisis support service Lifeline is 13 11 14. For Panda, call 1300 726 306. In the UK and Ireland, Samaritans can be contacted on freephone 116 123, or email jo@ or jo@ In the US, you can call or text the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline on 988, chat on or text HOME to 741741 to connect with a crisis counsellor. Other international helplines can be found at
Yahoo
4 days ago
- General
- Yahoo
‘We are crying for you': Hundreds mourn at funeral of 15-day-old baby terror victim Ravid Haim
Baby Ravid was born via emergency C-section after prolonged resuscitation efforts failed to save his 30-year-old mother, Tzeela Gez. Hundreds of mourners gathered on Thursday to say their goodbyes to Ravid Haim, a 15-day-old baby whose mother was gunned down by a terrorist as she traveled to hospital to give birth to him. Baby Ravid was born via emergency C-section after prolonged resuscitation efforts failed to save his 30-year-old mother,Tzeela Gez. Gez's husband, Hananel Haim, sustained minor injuries during the attack. Haim addressed Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu during the funeral, telling him: 'Stop listening to the whole world—we elected you to protect us.' The bereaved father noted that he invited Netanyahu to the shiva (Jewish mourning) and to the NICU before baby Ravid's death to 'look him in the eyes and tell him: this will never happen again.' 'Can we now say with certainty that there will be no more terror attacks? Or will there be another one tomorrow? Another family like mine? This has become normal, hasn't it?' he said. 'We live in an upside-down world, where we pity terrorists who murder us. 'You, Netanyahu, must take command. Don't listen to the EU. Don't listen to the world. Even Trump, no country in the world allows such animals to live, those who murder a pregnant woman on her way to the delivery room. They murdered her and her son—a woman who did only good in the world, for hundreds and thousands of people. They murdered a baby who didn't even sin for one day—he lived 15 days. What? A full angel, a complete woman, full of strength, love, and life.' Eulogizing the murdered mother and son, Haim said: "My Ravid, I stand here and my heart is broken twice. What can I say? There's nothing to say. Tzeela, my dear, I miss you and love you every day. It's so hard for me without you. I can't believe that someone so good—that this is what you got in the end. It's so hard. Our hearts are broken. But no one will break us. 'I was privileged to see Ravid Haim yesterday in the NICU. He was my sweet boy—he even opened his eyes for a few seconds, like an angel. I couldn't believe I got to see such a face. 'We're here for a very simple reason: because we allow people who want to murder us to continue living here. That's the simple reason. You don't need a lot of brains to understand: if someone comes to kill you, they shouldn't be here. 'Nation of Israel, we need to unite—left and right, religious and secular, Sephardi and Ashkenazi—we are one people. Why are we fighting each other? The whole world already wants to kill us. The Arabs who support terrorism, who incite against us, who hand out candies when we are attacked—you, today, start packing. All of you. This is not a request, it's a demand—and you will do it. 'We are a people who respect all nations. We welcome everyone: Christians, Arabs, Muslims—all religions. All are welcome. We are a people who respect all nations. We welcome everyone: Christians, Arabs, Muslims—all religions. All are welcome. But if you murder us, you have no place here. We will not accept it.' Haim stressed his belief that 'We need to keep building the Land of Israel. Every centimeter. Every border belongs to us. There's no Area A, B, or C. It's A to Z—Israel. Only Jewish Israel.' In memory of baby Ravid and Gez, the head of the Samaria Regional Counci Yossi Daganl, declared: 'We promise you, Tzeela and Ravid—we will build more settlements.' 'We will establish a new settlement in your name—Ravid Chaim and Tzala—so that your light not only won't go out, but will shine even brighter—through settlement, through love, through goodness. And light will always overcome darkness," he promised. Baby Ravid's aunt, and the sister of Gez, shared: 'Our Ravid, a beautiful child, a pure angel. We waited so long for you. Ravid, you know, little angel—this is not how life is supposed to be. Usually, when you're born, there's blinding light and for a moment you don't feel safe. Suddenly, the umbilical cord doesn't feed you anymore. But there's a touch, a softness, the warmth of a mother that makes everything possible, that makes things less scary and painful. 'But you didn't get that. A mother to protect you, to kiss you and hug you. Mom is waiting for you among the angels, with open arms.' Naomi Gez, grandmother of baby Ravid, spoke to her grandson, telling him, 'We were so happy when your mom became pregnant. We prayed so hard that this difficult pregnancy would end in an easy birth. You had your bris in a cemetery. Dear Ravid, your mother chose your name—Ravid, a precious jewel. And you truly are a jewel for the entire Jewish people. You entered the hearts of all of Israel. 'And now, instead of Elijah the Prophet's chair, you sit under the Throne of Glory, carrying all our prayers and hopes with you. We were with you in the NICU, we held your hands—but other than breath from your soul, we saw nothing. How I waited for you to squeeze my hand, but it didn't happen. No cry. No scream. The doctor said you never cried—not even once. So now, Ravid, we are crying for you.' Ravid has now been laid to rest next to his mother at the Har HaMenuchot Cemetery in Givat Shaul, Jerusalem. The funeral notice read: 'Earth, do not cover their blood. And may we find comfort in the rebuilding of Zion and Jerusalem.'