Week in review
Wednesday, September 14th, 2005Hi Everyone,
I know some of you know this, but for those who I haven’t returned calls or emails in the past week, here’s my explanation.
Last week, between Wednesday morning and Wednesday evening an irritation in my left thigh went from trivial in size and mildly annoying to the about 4 inches in diamete, raised and very painful. Walking up the stairs after dinner was extremely painful. I called home and was
told by my parents to go to the hospital - they thought it might be a spider bite.
Thank goodness I have health insurance, so there was no decision-making process, no “which hospital should I go to.” I made a few calls in the cab, but by the time I got out at Northwestern Memorial (where my primary care physician is) I was ready to knock this
thing out of my body.
I was admitted to the ER immediately. I told them I had a spider bite that was growing. The docs decided that it was definitely not great, and after some evaluation they put me on IV antibiotics. There was some debate over whether or not to cut it open to drain, but there wasn’t a lot of fluid release after
aspirating with a needle, so they let it lie. They brought me up to an ER observation room where I would stay for 23 hours; after that time it was either be admitted to the hospital or released.
The next morning (Thursday) the infection had gotten worse, flaring outside the pen lines the residentes
drew in the ER. My antibiotic treatment was revised and they decided to cut open the abscess and drain.
Did it hurt? Not especially. The various painkiller drugs were so intense that I was pretty loopy most of
the time. However, I declined an invitation to watch the procedure. Tissue samples were sent off to the
lab.
Michael came to visit on Thursday, as we tried to diagnose what was going on, how to make it better. And most importantly how to jailbreak myself out of the experience. We decided that if I was released that evening, he would come back and pick me up.
As soon as he left my team came in and (almost on clue) decided that I wasn’t going anywhere and that I would be admitted to the hospital. Then would begin the endless lin of “tomorrows.” Tomorrow you’ll be released, etc… This went on for days.
I was given a CAT Scan to check for additional fluid build-up after Thursday’s treatment didn’t make things much better. I have never had a CT Scan before, with a contrast dye injected through my IV. I was told two things 1) The dye causes a metal taste in the back of your mouth and 2) A sensation of self-urination sometimes occurs.
Both were true.
At some point Thursday evening, maybe after the CT Scan, I was brought up to my admitted room in the hospital. The numbers were incredible auspicious, 1339 (13 and 13×3). I remember being wheeled in, but I don’t remember much past that.
On Friday the visitors started up again as well as the phone calls, which was an unbelieveable morale boost. Friday evening was a full house, with the couch in the room and both chairs filled with laughing, smiling friends. College friends mixed with Improv friends mixed with Work friends. It was a welcome distraction from the hanging bags of fluid, the auto-inflating leg braces and the support hose (to prevent blood clots from forming in my legs) and kept me from hitting the “pain killer” button; it was much more fun to be conscious than not.
Highlights of the evening include: Greg delivering chocolate cake straight to my bedside table, Beardy
telling a nurse that maybe I got the infection from having sex with homeless people in the park and losing a late-night game of Scrabble to Meredith in the last few words. I blame the intense pain in my leg for my inability to make thoughtful, intelligent words on the board. There were other highlights for sure, too many to print here.
Once I was admitted, I never had to fall asleep at the end of the day without someone in the room with me. The painkillers I had before going to sleep really washed away all of the sensation - which made me very sad and a little disoriented - so having someone there was amazing.
Saturday was the same story. Poked and prodded during the day, with visitors to break up the misery.
Sometime on Friday or Saturday, I was told that my tissue cultures had grown Staph bacteria. Which strain remained to be seen. They would know tomorrow. My docs said I wasn’t contagious, unless someone decided to rub their open wound on my leg. I remarked that I would try and keep that from occuring.
On Saturday, one of my nurses told me - like I was an idiot for not knowing - that my culture had come back positive for CA-MRSA. Community-Associated Methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus Aureus.
Community-Associatd means: acquired by persons who have not been recently (within the past year)
hospitalized or had a medical procedure (such as dialysis, surgery, catheters).
Staph is usually gotten by people with suprressed immune systems.
You can look up more info on it here: http://www.cdc.gov/ncidod/hip/ARESIST/ca_mrsa.htm
Again, not infectious unless rubbing up against the wound, but not good for me. They upped my antibiotics again.
On Saturday I started to get better. The plan was two possibilities: 1) They would release me Sunday with oral antiobiotics or 2) They would release me Monday with a “permanent” IV in my shoulder, a PICC Line.
A PICC line is a catheter threaded into a large vein near the heart.
The thought of this still makes my knees wobble.
Saturday during the day I was very agitated. My dressing had gotten soaked in the shower, the IV in my forearm had started to hurt. The blood draws were getting annoying. And I wanted to go home so badly. I was also feeling my legs start to atrophy from non-use. Moving around was becoming an entire
production.
Saturday night I had lots of guests, pizza (delicious), more cake and pastries and someone with
me as everything went hazy at the end of evening.
On Sunday they woke me up early. I was already pretty agitated. However, they told me the good news - I was responding to the antibiotics and would be released with just pills. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I hopped in the shower to wash off the hospital film that covers your body every evening. Greg picked me up and helped me get everything situated - groceries, prescriptions, everything.
Other than the fact that I left the A/C on in my apartment (at full blast), everything was the same as
I had left it.
Even as I write this there are so many individual moments I would like to thank everyone for. As they
come back to me over the hours/days I will kick myself for not expressing them here. I appreciate every tiny and large gesture and your thoughts and wishes. This was a tremendously scary time for me and I couldn’t have gotten through it without you.
For the next week I won’t be travelling too far outside of Old Town, but if you’re in the
neighborhood, please give me a call. My plans are pretty open and I’m sure I can squeeze in a lunch or
dinner if you have the time.
Love,
Justin
