Thursday, July 3, 2014

 

Are we done yet?

After the last two years (outlined in my prior post) I was ready to swear off hospitals and doctors offices. It was like God was slow cooking me in the refiners fire oven. The tender timer had went off and I was ready to resume a "normal" medical issue-free life. The oven door was wide open and it was time to make my exit. I could see myself stepping out and heading down the road to good health. "Thanks for the repaired heart, foot and lessons learned" I would say to Master Chef. I wasn't rare, medium rare or medium, I was Well done. Then almost out of nowhere, the oven door shuts and I'm on the inside. Hey! Whoa there Mr. Chef, "didn't you read my last big ole blog post?" I AM DONE.
Last Tuesday evening I was having a lovely evening with the family. Christian and Liz had stopped by to visit bearing cupcakes. Then out of the blue I began to feel very cold. I started to shiver, a lot. No one else seemed to be cold. Heck, it was a warm June evening. Sweat began to bead up on my face. In short order I was quickly on my way to a severe fever and a trip to the ER. Christian gave me a very nice priesthood blessing and I was on my way. No need to look for my file, the ER was using it for a home page. (It was easier to reference that way.) Being a frequent flier at the hospital I got to move to the front of the line. I guess flirting with death has its privileges. The next few hours were some of the most uncomfortable moments I have ever had. My fever quickly shot to 104. My blood pressure dropped to 70 over 40 and my kidneys began to fail. Every cell in my body was screaming, "what the hell!" I was hot. Like you've been placed in the oven. (note nice tie-in to the prior metaphor) It was clear I had some kind of infection. The problem was the docs had no idea where it was coming from. So let the scanning begin. A CAT scan, x-ray, ultra sound, you name it. I was surprised they didn't lay me across the office copy machine for the little scan-o-rama. My hospital gown was dripping wet and it was time to accept the invitation to have a sleep-over with the nursing staff. (Really, not as fun as it sounds) Patty was wonderful as usual, being a veteran caretaker. She was my angel and my anchor.
They eventually started the heavy duty IV antibiotics. Patty eventually went home to finally get some needed sleep. Tethered to monitors and IVs it began to feel all to familiar. Cue the post traumatic stress. But the sun came up on another day, my fever broke and my salt free breakfast arrived (kaka). My blood pressure was still dangerously low. The nurse declared that unless it improved she would send me to the ICU.  Whoa there ...that place had a lot of weird memories for me. (see prior blog) I then proceeded to will my body to have a higher blood pressure. I say "NO" to the ICU. And sure enough enough my BP went up an hour later. The search for the infection continued. Later that day Patty noticed a large red area forming on the front of my leg. Ding Ding Ding! Clark, meet your infection. It was officially located via the "Patty Scan". ( My wife has mad skills) Doc Scooter then broke out the black sharpie and outlined the red area. I made him also draw a face on my leg. Custom hospital tattoo baby. Finally late Friday afternoon they cut me loose and the oven door cracked open and home I went. Three cheers to healing.
Am I done? It's up to the Master Chef.

Oh ya, my diagnosis: Cellulitis. It is a spreading bacterial infection just below the skin surface. It is most commonly caused by Streptococcus pyogenes or Staphylococcus aureus.

No comments:

Post a Comment