Dr. Seok Bee Lim has been practicing pediatric dentistry at Seattle Children’s Odessa Brown Children’s Clinic (OBCC) in the Central District for nearly 37 years. Although the neighborhood around her has changed since she started her career there, the mission of OBCC and the passion she has for caring for her patients has remained steadfast. Much like OBCC, Lim provides more than just healthcare; she’s part of the rich heritage OBCC was founded upon and the diverse community it serves.
From the moment he made his entrance into the world, Garrett Smith struggled to breathe.
“We longed for that first cry as he was placed upon his momma’s chest,” said Kevin Smith, Garrett’s dad. “Unfortunately, we didn’t get to hear that cry. Instead, we saw Garrett gasping for air and making quiet whimpers.”
As doctors raced to get Garrett the air he desperately needed, they first transferred him to the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) at the hospital where he was born. When his condition continued to deteriorate, they transferred him to a higher level of care at Swedish First Hill. Less than 24 hours later, the Smiths learned he would need yet another transfer, and faced the scariest decision they ever had to make as parents. Read full post »
Milton Wright III has only worked at Seattle Children’s for a couple months, but the hospital has been his second home for much of his life.
Milton’s childhood unfolded within Seattle Children’s walls — making friends, experiencing loss and facing death more times than he can count.
Today, Milton is back at Seattle Children’s — not as a patient, but as an employee and a symbol of hope.
“I want to do something that’s worthy of my life being saved,” Milton said.
At Seattle Children’s, many children and young adults with cancer are finding hope in T-cell immunotherapy – an experimental treatment that boosts a patient’s immune system and uses it to fight a disease.
Seattle Children’s researchers are leading clinical trials in which a patient’s T cells are reprogrammed to express a chimeric antigen receptor (CAR) on the surface of the cell. The CAR is like a puzzle piece that’s designed to attach perfectly to a specific antigen or marker on the surface of the cancer cell. When they attach, the CAR T cells attack the cancer cells as if they were fighting an infection.
In just five years, Seattle Children’s cancer immunotherapy program has grown tremendously to include trials that target leukemia, brain and spinal cord tumors and solid tumors. Curious how these clinical trials work? Read on to learn more about the immunotherapy clinical trial process at Seattle Children’s.
When asked about the birth of her daughter Harper, Sydney Beare lights up.
“Harper was 8 pounds, 1 ounce, 21.5 inches and the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen!” she said.
By all accounts, Harper was an exceptionally happy, and seemingly healthy, baby. She began sleeping though the night when she was just a few days old and almost never fussed, even when teething. Beare said her daughter was “totally content.”
But in July 2017, when Harper was 9 months old, she became seriously ill.
Harper first developed an ear infection, a staph infection and had an infected cut on her finger. During the next month she became lethargic and pale.
Beare noticed bruises on her legs, and later on her back and face. Harper began having diarrhea and vomiting. She also slept all the time. Despite all this, Harper’s well-child checkup in August revealed no concerns.
Then, on Aug. 21, Harper woke up with a fever.
“She was just lying there, with dry, cracked lips, screaming,” Beare remembered, choking back tears. “I was worried something was wrong but I pushed that idea aside because I didn’t want to think anything bad could happen to my baby.”
Forrest Potter grew up at Seattle Children’s watching by the bedside as his little brother faced a debilitating diagnosis, Leigh Syndrome (LS), a progressive neurodegenerative disorder.
Nearly 17 years after his brother’s diagnosis, Potter hopes to once again find himself by the bedside, this time wearing a white coat. When he was younger, there was little he could do for his brother. Today, he’s hopeful he’ll be able to help those in need and that his experiences at Seattle Children’s will help him as he begins a medical journey of his own.
My introduction to medicine was one rooted in fear. Over the course of two weeks, I had developed a routine: Sit in the waiting room collecting my courage, wash my hands, get cleared by the nurse to walk into the pediatric intensive care unit (PICU), get up on the step stool to talk to my unconscious brother for five minutes while looking as little as possible at the giant food processor like machine whirring with his blood. I felt helpless, but there was little more I could do to support my younger brother. Read full post »
In 2009, during Laurina Barker’s 20-week ultrasound, she and her husband Ryan received news that no expecting parents want to hear.
“The technician turned to me and said something looked different and that they would have my doctor call me,” said Barker.
A couple of days later, the Barkers would learn their baby had congenital diaphragmatic hernia (CDH), a rare birth defect where a baby’s diaphragm does not form completely. This leaves a hole between the abdomen and chest allowing their organs, most often their intestines and liver, to slip through the hole and up into the chest.
Last month, 6-year-old Hannah Mae Campbell wanted to invite her entire kindergarten class to her birthday party. However, Hannah decided that she couldn’t possibly keep all of the gifts herself; rather she told her mother that she wanted to give them to kids at Seattle Children’s.
She said she wanted to give kids something to play with that would help them “have fun” and “feel happy,” since being at the hospital can sometimes be sad. Surpassing her original goal of donating 20 gifts, Hannah and her family delivered 139 toys and books to the hospital. The activities included Lego sets, Play-Doh, My Little Pony, Hot Wheels, puzzles, coloring books, dolls, superheroes and stuffed animals.
“Everyone says she’s such an old soul who is always wanting to help others,” said Jennifer Campbell, Hannah’s mother. “A lot of it may have to do with growing up a little quicker in a hospital. Hannah has experienced things like blood transfusions and surgery that a lot of kids have never had to go through.”
Samantha Alexander first met Dr. Emily Gallagher, a craniofacial pediatrician in Seattle Children’s Craniofacial Center, when Alexander brought her 5-month-old son, Kai, to the clinic. Kai’s primary care doctor thought plates in his skull had fused together too quickly. He was evaluated for a metopic ridge, creating a point on his forehead.
While she feared he may need surgery, everything turned out fine. Alexander lovingly jokes, “He has a really big head.”
But from that initial clinic appointment, Alexander and Gallagher bonded over an unlikely love: children’s books. After the appointment was over, they chatted about their favorite books for nearly 30 minutes.
Alexander was an elementary school teacher before moving to Seattle with her husband, DJ Alexander. They moved in 2017 when DJ, a professional football player, was traded to the Seattle Seahawks. She had given up her teaching career, but she held fast to her love of books.
During that first appointment, Gallagher brought up a program called Reach Out and Read, which gives books to children 6 months to 6 years old during well-child visits. Gallagher started the program in the Craniofacial Center as a novel program outside of primary care. In the Craniofacial Center, pediatricians encourage families to read aloud together as a way to promote language development, with an additional focus on children with craniofacial differences who may face additional challenges with speech. Although Alexander’s son was too young for the program at the time, she says she instantly knew she wanted to help Gallagher expand the program.
When Emmy Cole was 2 years old, her mother noticed her struggling to walk. She grabbed her cell phone and tearfully recorded Emmy wince in pain as she took only a few, small steps. She knew something was terribly wrong with her daughter. Immediately after, they came to Seattle Children’s in search of answers. Emmy didn’t walk the rest of the day.
They received heartbreaking news. Dani and James Cole, Emmy’s parents, faced the unimaginable reality of helping their daughter through a devastating diagnosis: cancer.
On April 13, 2015, Emmy was diagnosed with high risk neuroblastoma.
Watch Emmy’s story from the beginning, from small, painful steps, to miraculous leaps. Read full post »