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version of Page 1 above-the-fold obituary, Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel, February 14, 2002
By Amy Rabideau Silvers of the Journal
Sentinel staff
A baby was born nine months ago with skin so fragile that she
could be touched with only the most tender loving care.
The miracle was that she fought to live, soaking up all the gentle
cuddling her mother and father and family could share.
She learned to smile, then laugh and coo, delighting in the attention
of her big sister. And when her little body began losing the fight,
everything possible was done to relieve the pain of her damaged
skin and organs.
Sophia Maria Litynski died Saturday at her family's home in Greenfield.
She was the daughter of Ernest and Jennifer Litynski, each 29,
and the little sister of Amelia, 3 1/2. She died of a rare genetic
disease, something called epidermolysis bullosa, specifically
an even rarer and lethal form.
"What Sophia had was the worst of the worst," said her
mother.
Arthur Dorrington, the family pediatrician, agreed.
"I've been in practice 26 years," he said. "This
is something I'll never forget. It's the worst disease I've ever
seen."
Sophia was born May 7, 2001, at St. Luke's Medical Center -
a seemingly healthy 7 pounds, 13 ounces - but doctors quickly
suspected that something was very wrong.
"The only clue was that her fingers and toes looked like
they had sores," Dorrington said.
He suspected it was a disease so rare that he had never seen a
case.
The family was quickly referred to Children's Hospital of Wisconsin.
As soon as infant and mother were discharged, when Sophia was
only 36 hours old, they went directly to their first appointment
at Children's.
"It's a skin disease," Litynski said. "She was
missing certain proteins in the skin. Her skin would break down;
...any trauma, pressure, friction could cause blisters, sores.
Eighty-five percent of her body had open sores - similar to a
burn victim but worse, because you can't heal."
Each year, only about five to 10 severe cases of the disease occur
in the United States, with more cases of its mild or moderate
forms, according to Beth Drolet, a pediatric dermatologist at
Children's Hospital.
Sophia was believed to have one of the most severe forms, typically
fatal in infancy. Her family used extra care in picking her up,
dressing and diapering her, bathing and drying her skin.
The care kept most symptoms at bay for the first months. Then
the disease began to affect her internal organs, causing nutrition,
blood and breathing problems.
By coincidence, and only coincidence, Sophia was the third baby
in Wisconsin to die of the disease in the last year. Before that,
the last case occurred at least five years before, Drolet said.
Epidermolysis bullosa occurs only when a mother and father are
both genetic carriers. Experts estimate a one-in-a-million chance
of two carriers marrying. Even then, there is a one-in-four chance
that the disease will occur in any given pregnancy. The Litynskis,
for example, had their healthy daughter before Sophia was born.
At the time of Sophia's death, genetic testing was already under
way to determine where the defect occurs in her DNA. Research
is continuing on the disorder.
"She was a fighter," her mother said. "She had
touch and love. Mommy knew exactly how to hold her. She was cuddled
and loved and hugged and kissed. She loved to be held... She
was always in my arms or looking to see where I was."
She had, Litynski said, the most gorgeous eyes.
"You could see the world in Sophia's eyes," she said.
"We just did everything we could. Nine months is pretty long
for this. She fought long and hard, and we fought as long and
hard as she let us... She was loved so much, why would she
give up?"
A team of specialists at Children's Hospital didn't want to give
up, either, Dorrington said. They included: dermatologists Nancy
Esterly and Drolet; Colin Rudolph for gastrointestinal medicine;
Peter Havens for infectious diseases; Joe Kerschner, the ear,
nose and throat specialist; J. Paul Scott, a blood specialist.
Holly Colby was the special needs nurse and case manager. Christine
Weitekamp was the home health care nurse for the family.
It finally became clear Sophia could not survive. Sophia's parents
gave up dreams of their daughter somehow entering kindergarten,
graduating from high school.
"Our emphasis shifted toward how can we give love to Sophia
and dignity in death," Dorrington said. "This little
baby touched literally hundreds of lives. She taught us all about
love and how to give a baby dignity."
Bruce Himelstein joined the team for pain management, providing
palliative care for Sophia. The little girl was eventually placed
on morphine and methadone to control her pain.
"They really had a love for Sophia," her mother said.
"She wasn't just a patient to them."
In her last month, Sophia sometimes watched a spot in her room,
a place without toys or pictures or shadows. Litynski saw her
daughter smile, something that she hadn't had the energy to do.
Once, she called her daughter's name. For the first time, her
daughter didn't turn to her voice.
"I called her name again, and she kind of sighed and then
turned to me," she said. "And she smiled at me like
it's OK."
The mother believes she knows what Sophia was watching.
"Mrs. Litynski and I have no doubt," Dorrington said.
"She was seeing angels."
On the day she died, Sophia's mother left her sleeping, returning
less than an hour later.
"She died at home, in her crib, in the room where there was
nothing but love," Jennifer said.
Dorrington came to the house, pronouncing his little patient dead.
"Mrs. Litynski was holding Sophia, and I held her for a while
and kissed her goodbye," he said. Weitekamp, the home health
nurse, came to the house, gently making clay impressions of Sophia's
hands and feet for her family. Amelia could hold her little sister
again.
Nothing could hurt Sophia anymore.
Visitation will be held at 10 a.m. today at St. Alphonsus Church,
6060 W. Loomis Road. The funeral will follow at 11 a.m. In lieu
of flowers, the family will forward any donations for research
on epidermolysis bullosa.
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