Bored and Anxious

We last left off with me sitting in hospital room wondering what the hell had just happened. I was ultimately in the hospital for 7 days. Seven LONG days. Let me give you a quick run down of what happened.

On Monday, Dec 8, Doc M, the podiatrist, came in to see me. He filled me in on the significant infection. They took cultures and needed to determine what bacteria was involved so they can focus the antibiotics. Until that time I’d be on three different, hard hitting antibiotics. I could expect some nausea and diarrhea for my troubles too. Yipee.

He also informed me that I’d be going into surgery Tuesday evening. They needed to get ride of the “dead” skin and what not and see just how far the infection went. He suspected it was into the joint and was hoping it wasn’t as far as the bone. If it was in the bone, I’d lose my pinky toe. If it was in the joint, it’d still be bad, but not as bad.

I met two additional doctors that night as well. The “hospitalist” doc who is the doc on the floor for several days; Doc E2 (not to be confused with the first Doc E I saw way back when). And the Infectious Disease Doc – Doc V – who was amusing and serious all in one. His specialty, besides infections, was wearing ugly Christmas sweaters every day of December. Hearing I was being seen by an infectious disease doc kinda freaked me out a little more. As if I didn’t realize how serious this was, THAT made it more serious to me.

He repeated what Doc M said and scolded me a little about how I should have come in sooner. He said the cultures could take 2-3 days to grow for them to know what it was. That’s about when I realized I wasn’t going home anytime soon.

If I’m being totally honest with myself, I didn’t have a CLUE what an infection looked like or signs of infection. I had always thought a fever meant you had an infection. I never had a fever. The Saturday before I had bad chills and was exhausted. It turns out that should have been my sign. I know that now.

 I slept like crap those first two nights. I had anxiety running through my veins and I just couldn’t turn off my brain.

Speaking of veins, by this time, I still have the two IVs in my arms, one on the left side and one on the right side. They are pumping me full of any and every antibiotic known to man. They took cultures, but don’t know what they are yet and so are hitting it as hard as they can with the hard stuff.

Surgery was scheduled for that Tuesday which meant I had to hang out all day Monday and anxiously wait for Tuesday. And not just Tuesday but Tuesday at 5 PM.

Because of the surgery the last time I could eat on Monday was by 9 AM. I was sure I was going to be starving by the time they took me back for surgery. Turns out anxiety tends to take away your appetite. I spent the day wondering what the heck was gonna happen. What was I going to do? What was the plan? How was I going to do this living by myself? I knew all these answers would be answered eventually but as you know, I’m a very impatient person. Guess this is another lesson I need to learn.

Surgery day came and went. The surgery was a success in that they were able to confirm it wasn't in the bone (Thank God) but it was in part of the joint. They "cleaned house" and feel like they got all the bad stuff out. Now it was the waiting game. More antibiotics, more waiting. That was going to be my next several days. 

The cultures were still not done so I waited. Daily visits from all three doctors. I lost count of how many different nurses and CNAs came in and out of my room. 

On Thursday, Infectious Disease doc closed down my bathroom because I had diarrhea and that meant I had to use the commode. Oh goody. As if the hospital stay wasn't bad enough. 

Finally on Thursday though, they had an idea of one of the bacterias was. I couldn't tell you what it was. All I know is it had a LONG name that was rattled off as if I was to know what it was. It's probably good then I couldn't Google it and freak myself out more. 

It wasn't all bad. Really, the only bad part was the boredom. Not a lot of interesting TV. Didn't want to read. I spent a lot of time contemplating my life choices and making promises out to the universe. 

I did have some visitors though, so that broke up the boredom. K&R stopped by and got to witness the cleaning of the wound. They brought me the most frustrating game ever...which kept my mind off things. F stopped by with hot chocolate and conversation. Janet stopped by twice. Once to get Wroamin to take him home and once to bring me clam chowder. Sherrie was constantly there too. She got to learn how to care for the wound for once I was home. She's a trooper that one. I really don't deserve her. I will be forever grateful for her though. 

Finally the day came when I was going home. Now the hard work would begin. I had some learning to do and it wasn't going to be fun. 

The silver lining here, if there was one, is I have zero pain. The curse and the blessing of neuropathy is you can't feel your feet. After watching all the poking, scraping, cleaning that went on with the wound I'm VERY glad I can't feel it. But, now I have to be extra diligent it seems. Another lesson has been learned.