Walk on

This past Saturday was our local March of Dimes Walk for Babies walk to raise money. Frank and I had the honor of Walking with Team Mighty Matt, a team in memory of our good friends nephew who passed away at about 2 weeks of age after being born premature and with congenital heart defects. We had a great time although next year perhaps I should train a little for the hilly terrain of the 5 mile walk. Its sad that I used to run every day and now a measly 5 mile walk made me tired, but I digress.

March of Dimes does great work in raising money for research to help promote healthy babies, be it in reducing prematurity and birth defects, or to find new therapies for preterm infants. When I was in medical school 50% of infants born at 25 weeks would not survive and 50% of those that did wold have significant disabilities. Those numbers are MUCH better now thanks to new medications and advances in respiratory support. I have a special place in my heart for the March of Dimes as my favorite rotations in med school and residency were in the NICU. I was always the most comfortable there. I loved the science of neonatology, the practice, and the families. I was always amazed how a family who had a unexpected preterm birth could rise to the challenges of NICU. It is not always easy for them, more like a roller coaster ride with its ups and downs, and these families were some of the strongest I met. Had I not had some scholarship obligations to fulfill that required me to practice general pediatrics, I would be completing the second year of a three year fellowship in Neonatology right now. I have not completely ruled out going back either, although I think it will be much harder for me to go back than had I gone straight through. I will say walking onto the field on Sat and seeing all of the team shirts and signs with pictures of premature babies, some who were there that day and others who lost their battle brought back a flood of emotions for me of how much I miss my contact with that world.

So, I was walking on Saturday for Matthew, for all the babies I have cared for, for those I now only through the computer, and for all the babies that never had the chance to fight. I can't wait for next year.