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A "Special" Kind of Care
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| Pediatric immunologist Kari Nadeau, M.D., Ph.D., monitors 3-year-old Lesley Martinez's immunogloblin levels after the little girl's second liver transplant. |
Her experience with her daughter's illness prompted her to go back into the hands-on practice of medicine. Nadeau finished a fellowship in pediatric allergy, asthma and immunology at Packard, gaining experience treating children with severe immune system deficiencies, as well as those with allergies and asthma.
"Asthma is a horrible disease that affects up to 20 percent of kids today. Yet we still treat it with medicines that have been around for decades," says Nadeau. By comparing immune cells in blood and bronchial fluid samples of patients with asthma to those without, she hopes to find new therapies aimed at these immune cells to counteract some of the problems she sees in her patients. Her research focuses on finding out how to tame an overly active immune response that is at the root of allergies, asthma, autoimmune diseases, and the rejection of transplanted organs.
One of her patients is a 3-year-old named Lesly Martinez, who came to Nadeau after her second liver transplant. Lesly's liver turned cancerous soon after she was born and her body rejected the first attempt at transplantation with a healthy liver. The second try appears to be successful except for Lesly's extremely low levels of immunoglobulins, proteins in the blood critical for a strong immune system. Nadeau is treating her using medications and infusions of immunoglobulins to help Lesly fight infections.
Nadeau also has helped initiate a pediatric clinical trial at Packard to see if an experimental asthma therapy called anti-IgE could work for treating children with food allergies and eczema. Early intervention of therapies to treat allergies, she says, can stop the all-too-common progression to asthma. Nadeau says conducting clinical trials in children is critical to understanding how a child's immune system develops. "You can't do developmental research in adults," she says. "It has to be done in pediatrics."
In medical school, Peter Koltai, MD, thought that he wanted to be an orthopedic surgeon, but he became intrigued one day while observing an ear surgery. Instead Koltai decided to train in general otolaryngology, a subspecialty that concentrates on disorders and diseases of the ear, nose, and throat. "Then it became obvious to me that I loved working with kids and that I had a gift for dealing with the fears of parents," he says, "so I gravitated more and more to the pediatric subspecialty."
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| One-year-old Oliver VonFeldt at a follow-up appointment with pediatric otolaryngologist Peter Koltai, M.D., almost a year after Koltai repaired the boy's laryngeal cleft. |
Koltai soothes anxious parents by conveying to them that he is shouldering full responsibility for their child. "I want parents to know I have a higher level of commitment than just meticulous care," he explains. "When I take your kid into the OR, it's as if I'm taking my own child."
Parents also can be assured by Koltai's experience, which spans more than 25 years, including six as head of pediatric otolaryngology at Cleveland Clinic Children's Hospital. Just over a year ago, Koltai was recruited to Stanford as Packard's chief of pediatric otolaryngology to further develop a program in airway reconstruction for children.
Pediatric otolaryngology problems, says Koltai, are often quite different from those seen in adults. For example, pediatric head and neck surgical cases generally involve congenital abnormalities, such as lymphatic malformations or developmental cysts, while diseases such as head and neck cancer are more common in grown ups.
This year, little Christian Myers presented Koltai with an especially interesting and rewarding case. The boy was born with a laryngeal cleft—a congenital abnormality in which the partition between the voice box and the esophagus is not completely formed, causing food to go down the trachea instead of the esophagus. Christian's cleft extended below the level of the vocal cords, which usually meant the repair would need to be done externally.
Instead, Koltai wanted to make the procedure less invasive and speed recovery time by doing the surgery endoscopically, using a method he had helped develop for clefts that were not as deep as Christian's. "The procedure was technically challenging," says Koltai, "somewhat like building a ship in a bottle using chopsticks." But the surgery worked beautifully. Christian was able to begin eating normally after the surgery and just returned after almost a year for a follow-up visit.
Always in a search for better surgical options for his young patients, Koltai is looking forward to setting up an airway research lab to explore new methods of robotic laryngeal surgery and developing different types of synthetic materials that can be used for airway reconstruction.
Neonatologist Susan Hintz, MD, knew she wanted to specialize in the problems of newborns from the time she was an undergraduate, working in the lab of David Stevenson, MD. "It seemed to me that I could potentially help an infant in need and make a difference that would last for his or her whole, hopefully long, life," she says.
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| Neonatologist Susan Hintz, M.D., has guided the care of Erick Sanchez-Zamudio during his lengthy stay in Packard's neonatal intensive care unit (NICU). |
Almost 20 years later, Hintz is still working with Stevenson, who is now director of the Johnson Center for Pregnancy and Newborn Services at Packard. Hintz did all of her medical training at Stanford, and applies her initial interest in newborns daily. The need for clinical innovations in the field has spurred Hintz to pursue a range of research interests studying the outcomes of extremely ill infants.
Recently, she cared for a young patient who needed a whole team of specialists, and the latest technologies.
Erick Sanchez-Zamudio was born on June 21 with a congenital diaphragmatic hernia. That, Hintz explains, means that early in gestation, the baby's diaphragm didn't close completely, so the bowel and other abdominal organs went into the chest. Having the organs all in the wrong places can mean that the lungs don't have a chance to form properly. This is what happened in Erick's case.
Fortunately, Erick's condition was identified before his birth, so Hintz had an opportunity to prepare the family for the events that would occur. At birth, Erick couldn't breathe for himself and needed the assistance of a heart-lung bypass device called extra-corporeal membrane oxygenation, or ECMO, for a few weeks. He needed surgery to push his abdominal organs back down where they belonged and to create a new diaphragm out of Gore-Tex. Erick's condition was so unstable that the surgery had to take place while he was still on ECMO, right in the neonatal intensive care unit.
With a calmness that belies the troubles he has had in his short life, Erick was able to breathe on his own. "We used all the technologies available to allow that to happen," says Hintz. Advances such as ECMO and nitric oxide, an inhaled gas that opens up the vessels of the lungs to allow more blood flow, were an essential part of getting Erick this far.
"Erick's case is also an example of the level of collaboration needed in such complex cases," she says. "Pediatric surgeons and cardiologists, especially the pulmonary hypertension specialists, have been very involved in his care." But, Hintz says, despite the great strides Erick has made, he still has many difficult challenges to overcome before doctors can determine if he will be able to survive.
According to Hintz, it's critical to train young people as they launch
their medical careers not just how to be good clinicians but also to understand
the research needed to advance their specialized areas. "What we
need to know about disease processes is becoming increasingly complex,"
she says. "We really want to train young people to work on the next
generation of problems facing sick children."

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