Y'all remember my post from last week talking about how much fun we had at the beach on Memorial Day? I take it back. All of it. I wish we never went. I should have heeded promptings and put my foot down and said NO! But I didn't. Because I wanted my family to have fun and now I regret it. What am I talking about? If you're not squeamish read this post by my husband...
'Well friends, I haven't really posted many updates in a while and it seems that I only post when significant news occurs. This time is no exception.
I have just been admitted into the hospital with a rather serious leg infection. Apparently I was introduced to my new bacterial friends on Memorial Day when swimming at the beach just outside of Freeport with my kids. One little minor cut was all it took which has never given me trouble in the ocean before, but not this time. That was Monday. Tuesday afternoon I started to feel a little more pain in my ankle than usual, not enough to be bothered. Later that evening it started becoming painful to walk around the house disrupting what should have been an enjoyable evening watching Sharknado. Having trouble sleeping I determined that the smart thing to do (as opposed to the stubborn option) was to get checked out at the closest ER.
At 6 am, around my usual time I leave for work, I drove myself to a satellite ER for one of the hospitals in Cypress. At this point I needed a cane to even walk a few steps. I made it in and was the first patient there. They seemed nice and like the care was good, but the doctor after verifying that I didn't have anything serious like a blood clot gave me the non-chalaza diagnosis that I had a bacterial infection in my leg. Duh! You can see it and that it had spread halfway up my leg. But no, they discharged me at 9 am with a bottle of some routine antibiotics and some Tylenol. They even suggested I should go into work that same day despite the fact that I couldn't walk and was beginning a fever. The discharge papers made the infection seem no more serious than a common rash. I was not completely lucid at the time, drove home and started my medication.
Wednesday afternoon the fever hit hard, as high as 103.8. We were able to break it slowly down to 101 by Thursday morning and 99 that same evening. I was becoming dehydrated and it was difficult to imbibe the necessary amount of fluids. Things were going downhill fast despite breaking the fever. My father, who is a retired MD, knew the antibiotics weren't strong enough told me to see my GP and ask for the stronger meds. The issue is that no GP would take me in to see a new patient (hadn't found a GP since we moved). My father called in the order for Rx using his own authority. That started to help but still wasn't enough.
My wonderful sister, Kristi heard what was going on and is able to be blunt with me. She deals with these types of infections as a nurse in Utah. She told me to outline the infection with a marker to track its progress and helped me find an appropriate doctor to see. If it went outside of the marked lines to go back to a real hospital. But she was more clever than that. By seeing a doctor (today) and being pushy to get in, that they would send me to the hospital. Alas that is what happened.
Usually I'm a typical stubborn man who tries to tough things out, let it pass, and save money by not paying for ER bills. I wasn't this time. I sought care. I took the necessary steps as I should have. The first ER didn't misdiagnose me, they just didn't treat me. I may have already completed the necessary treatment by now had they given me the correct antibiotics via IV. Instead they wanted me in and out as any service oriented business would. Now I'm due to remain here for the next 4-5 days getting howitzer doses of the strongest antibiotics available. Had I delayed further this infection would have made me septic, spread the infection to the point of requiring amputation, or even death. I was listening to the doctor, from now on I may just go straight to my sister to recalibrate my doctor BS o'meter. Thanks Sis. '
WOW! I know. This is just where our little adventure begins. Friday night my big girls spent the night at their friends house and the little stayed with their Auntie Rachel. I helped Chris get settled into the hospital as the hospital staff started a battery of tests and IV antibiotics. I went home for the night after being completely exhausted. The next day the girls and their friend who was with us at the beach, came to visit.
The big girls were very interested in what was going on. Alana really wants to be a DR. some day and she found every second of it fascinating.
Rachel was such an amazing help. She kept our crazies in line while Mommy and Daddy where away.
Milly was pretty stand-offish while visiting the first time. Silly little thing.
After a visit from the Dr, Infectious disease Dr, and surgeon the decision was made to operate on Sunday morning.
By Sunday the tissue in his leg had begun to puss up and leak. More samples where taken to the lab for further culture.
From Chris: "
I'm scheduled for surgery tomorrow morning. They are going to be scraping the dead tissue/blisters off in order for the area to scab up and in preparation for skin grafts. I know that it doesn't sound too painful, but it's the exact opposite and should be very painful, but it will end up healing faster in the end. Can I call for a stand-in, backup, tag-team, sub, or any other kind of proxy? Nope? Then as I told the Surgeon, I'll bite my lip and let's give it hell!"
"
Yeah, so that just happened. Usually the surgeons replace the skin or stitch things back up, but not in this case. Very large open wound baby! They gave me morphine and even something a bit stronger without making a dent in the pain since the nerves are exposed. I haven't cussed out loud yet, but I'm sure it's coming. With that said I can't be held responsible for whatever comes out of my mouth"
MONDAY June 1st. Lucky Number 13.
We finally got to take a look at the surgeon's handy work. I honestly was unsure of what we'd see.
Check that puppy out! As Chris said "It looks like hamburger" Nothing says love on your 13th wedding anniversary like taking pictures of your husband's battle wounds. I hurt for him. It looked so painful.
To make light of the situation we took some silly selfies. That's just they way we are.
Since Milly was tagging along she wanted in on the fun.
Finally, after several days we were finally able to convince her to sit with daddy. She listened and asked questions. It was a very sweet moment.
Tuesday. A pic line was inserted into Chris's arm, leading to his heart. This would allow the antibiotics a chance to do their work more effectively
.
Wednesday. After taking a day to play catch-up with the kids and house I was able to visit my handsome guy again. The leg was really starting to look better. You could even see some of the skin growing back.
So my guy was finally able to get up with crutches and walk around a bit. Part of me wanted to cry. After being told that he could have lost his leg, Chris was mobile again. It wasn't much but it was something. Later that day the Dr paid us a visit. He said that he didn't see any reason that Chris couldn't go home the next day. An answer to prayers.
THURSDAY!!!!! Going home day.
Chris working remotely for work. Such a devoted guy.
Thursday was the last day of school for the girls and Chris's last day in the hospital. Naturally they wanted to be there. However, a hospital is a very boring [lace for kids. We passed time looking out the window and playing hand games as we waited for the discharge papers to be finalized. We met a sweet old man in the hall who was in a wheelchair. he had a heart monitor attached to his chest and it was obvious that he had been in there a long time. He was so happy to hear laughter in the halls. he had to come talk to us. This precious soul really touched me and very much reminded me of my Poppy. He was very tall. and in a hospital gown and reminisced of the good ol' days. I'm glad that we where their to break up the day for him. I know he really helped me.
This is Ariana's "Please don't charge my daddy too much for his hospital visit" face. I just about died.
As soon as we were all packed up we hit the road running, just trying to get to the house before the home care nurse.
Since then we'd gone through a mini whirlwind. Immediately, a delivery of two big boxes of meds and iv supply came to the door. I quickly ran to the pharmacy to pick up five or so scrips and rushed home to meet with the Home Care nurse. We learned how to flush Chris's pic lines and clear it from any clots. He now has figured out his iv antibiotic schedule and between the two of us, I think we have it pretty well figured out. We will also be doing the wound care ourselves.
Friday.
I waskind of scared of the first dressing change since I wasn't there for the training session. I made mistakes which included me ripping off some of the new skin that my hubby had worked so hard to grow back. I cried. But Chris said that this is a learning experience. How is he so cool? I don't get it.
I just feel terrible for Chris because he's in so much pain. I wish is was able to take more of the pain from him. But for now he's in his own bed relaxing as much as possible with his fur baby. Prayers for a quick recovery appreciated.
