It's been crazy and my heart hasn't been in much of anything. I've been working hard on therapy since my knee surgery- I'm at a little over a 90* bend now and pushing harder every day. It hurts like nothing I've felt before. The tightness- hard to explain. We are going to end up owing about $4,000 on this- which is a really good deal considering the total cost of the surgery!
My nephew is now living with us- long story. Trouble at home... homeschooling from my house... he's been here one week. On Sunday, he and my son were driving to pick up a friend for youth group (he's 17, my son is 14) and he lost control of our car and rolled it 3 times. They are both ok, and very lucky to be alive. My son got the worst of it with a bad concussion and a broken nose. They both are cut up and look like they lost a fist fight. But they are alive. They kept my son overnight at the hospital and I stayed with him. I'm sure there's going to be a fight between our health insurance and the auto insurance as far as the bill- I'm letting my husband deal with all of that. But there's no telling what we're going to end up owing and how it will affect our future premiums. Oh, and of course it was the car with the working air conditioning. sigh. We are not replacing the car- we're going to make due with our van for a while- until we're out of debt and can pay cash for a used second car. This puppy has to hold together for another year or so. I'm so glad they're ok I don't care about the car or the insurance or the money that we're going to owe on this.
This all follows the flood in our basement about a month ago which we are still working with insurance to get everything taken care of. We're getting a new roof out of it because of hail damage and we have to have carpet and window work done as well as some re-grading of our property to prevent this from happening again. I don't know if all of our insurance money is going to cover all we HAVE to do.
We are having a garage sale on Saturday selling a lot of big stuff to try to help out- we are selling our really nice pool table and some other misc. furniture... and next week, my wedding ring is going on Craigslist.
Oh yeah, and I turn 40 on Thursday. Yeah. Kick me while I'm down. Maybe it will slip quietly by... sigh.
Anyway, pray for us... we are feeling this attack! Blessings on you all and I'll check back when I'm not hanging on by a thread anymore.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Friday, September 18, 2009
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Please Excuse
the funky header... I suck at graphics. My husband is supposed to help me at some point in the next few days get it fixed.
Good things that happened this week:
-Went to church for the second week in a row and we had huge numbers!
-Haven't fallen down the deck stairs again and thought I was going to die from the pain, thus spending another full day in a drug-induced haze.
-Found out that the plate of Shannon's that I broke while I was falling down the stairs only cost her $1.99. I thought it was a $40 plate from Pottery Barn or something!
-Am completely over the "Super Infection" C-Diff and Ulcerated Colitis that I caught in the hospital (in other words: I'm eating normal food with no repercussions!)
- Am needing the Percocet less and less- ditto the Valium.
- I start therapy three times a week tomorrow. I'm scared. I've heard they are going to make me cry. But I'm gonna be tough.
- My son's 8th grade football team just won their second game- he's really emerging as a leader on the team. It's so cool to see.
Uncomfortable things that happened this week:
- Three letters: CPM. (That's my Continual Passive Motion machine). owie.
- I am avoiding a situation with someone that I need to face up to... but I don't want to get any more involved with her. Have you ever just been "done" with someone? And is it ok to be "done" with someone as a PW?
- An older guy (well, older than me- he's like 45-50) has been hitting on me every week at church and making me really uncomfortable (and yes, he knows I'm the PW!). I'm using counter-measures to avoid ANY alone time with him, even in a crowd! ick.
I guess that's it for now... peace.
Good things that happened this week:
-Went to church for the second week in a row and we had huge numbers!
-Haven't fallen down the deck stairs again and thought I was going to die from the pain, thus spending another full day in a drug-induced haze.
-Found out that the plate of Shannon's that I broke while I was falling down the stairs only cost her $1.99. I thought it was a $40 plate from Pottery Barn or something!
-Am completely over the "Super Infection" C-Diff and Ulcerated Colitis that I caught in the hospital (in other words: I'm eating normal food with no repercussions!)
- Am needing the Percocet less and less- ditto the Valium.
- I start therapy three times a week tomorrow. I'm scared. I've heard they are going to make me cry. But I'm gonna be tough.
- My son's 8th grade football team just won their second game- he's really emerging as a leader on the team. It's so cool to see.
Uncomfortable things that happened this week:
- Three letters: CPM. (That's my Continual Passive Motion machine). owie.
- I am avoiding a situation with someone that I need to face up to... but I don't want to get any more involved with her. Have you ever just been "done" with someone? And is it ok to be "done" with someone as a PW?
- An older guy (well, older than me- he's like 45-50) has been hitting on me every week at church and making me really uncomfortable (and yes, he knows I'm the PW!). I'm using counter-measures to avoid ANY alone time with him, even in a crowd! ick.
I guess that's it for now... peace.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Over a year ago...
I wrote these two posts about my brother's death:
Wednesday, 13 February 2008
11:22 pm: Sitting with my big brother at Hermann Memorial Hospital in Houston. He was an amazing man and he loved me and my sister so much. He took really good care of us and now it's our turn to take care of him. David was in a motorcycle accident on Saturday, February 9 and he died today with a traumatic brain injury. He is here as an organ donor and my sister and I are going to stay with him for the next 24 to 36 hours until he goes into his final surgery. We are holding his hands and making sure his toes stay warm and covered up and just being with him for a little bit longer. Perched on his pillow, there is a valentine on one side of his head and a picture of the three of us on the other side. I'm so glad I'm here- I wouldn't be anywhere else. I love you, DuDu. I'll see you in heaven...
2:30 am: Still here~David's final surgery has been pushed back from 3am to 5:30am due to the logistics of getting all the different transplant teams and surgeons that need to be here all here at the same time. We will have been here in the transplant center about 31 hours with him when he goes to surgery- fighting sleep and wanting to stay awake to be with him every second. So far, his amazing nurse Amy has placed his heart, his liver, his pancreas, and both kidneys. He has continued to stay on life support to keep his organs healthy and functioning, but he's clinically been gone since 6:25 yesterday afternoon. It's been so good to be here with him and continue to take care of him- and it's reassuring to still see his chest rising and falling for a little while longer. He is starting to look more like himself- the swelling in his face has gone down a lot in the past couple of days and that's reassuring too. It's going to be so hard to say goodbye when they come to get him in about 5 hours. Jesus, give us strength to let him go- we know he is already yours and happier than he's been in a long time. Thank you for the little bit of extra time we have had with him.
It's been 19 months since I wrote that and just this week, I got something in the mail that brought it all back- but in a sweet, tender way. I received a package from Carla, his wife with a note that said this:
"Angie, I was going through more boxes and found these. I thought you might like to have them. I didn't find anything for anyone else that he had saved. You were very special to Dave and he loved you very much! Carla"
Included in the package were random pictures I had drawn for him, valentines cards, pictures of me from camping trips (particularly the one where he was supposed to be watching me when I was 2 and I jumped off a picnic table and knocked out both my front teeth), and just all kinds of things a little sister gives her big brother. Here are a few samples:
A picture I drew at age 7 for him when David and my dad built our family dog Misty her dog house- Misty has a caption over her head that says, "I think this is my lucky day!"
A letter I wrote David when he was away at college that says, "Dear David, Merry Christmas! I love you very much. I hope you have a very merry Christmas with lots of silver bells and a stocking full of goodies. I am waiting up for Santa and will put in a good word for you! Lotsa' Love, Angie
There was a child's classroom valentine that I signed "To David from Angela your sister in 2nd grade."
There was a 1st grade spelling list from May 3, 1977 with all ten words listed out.
There were rhyming worksheets where I had to color the objects that rhymed (bat, cat).
There was a "God's Eye" craft that I made at Camp Pearl Wheat in Kerville, TX for him to hang in his car... which he did for a year or so.
There is a birthday card that I colored him when I was eight years old. Inside it says: "Dear Old Man, How do you feel? Let's get on with the business. I like you Mr. 20 year old man. Love, Angie"
There is the long letter I wrote him when I was 13 in 1982 that says in part, "Now I want you to enjoy yourself up there [in New Orleans where he had just moved], but henceforth frometh my lips cometh a command: Go git yerself a girlie! Open your mouth and ask one out for me, ok? Love, your charming, loveable, adorable, cute, sweet, pretty, funny and modest baby sister (angie)!"
And finally, my three favorite letters to him (and his pet peeves):
"Dear David, I am sory I steped on your foot! You know nobdoys perfete. Anyway I am realy sory!! Love Angie (I must have been in first or second grade- hence the spelling!)
This one is typed- I was maybe in 3rd grade and I walked into his room and saw his christmas present for me not yet wrapped sitting on his bed- it was a Crystal Gayle album: "To David. I forgot to knock again. Some Day I Will Learn! Please Forgive Me. Angela PS.I hope you like flowers, here are some for you: **********************************************************************************
Lastly, I must confess that I am a bread lover. Always have been. Apparently I like gravy as evidenced in the following letter, I think I was about 10 years old... it's in cursive, but not dated:
"Dear David, You know at supper? When you said all I do is eat bread and gravy? Well just right now I don't realy care if I have a big fat toe or I'm ten pounds over weight. If it irratates you just don't look at me! Love, Angie. PS: I really love you.
When I opened the envelope from Carla, I read her note and waited to look at anything until my husband could sit and look at it with me because I knew I would lose it. And I did... but it was sweet memories of a sweet relationship... my eyes are tearing now thinking of it and looking at these things again. Just to know that he saved them- he kept them all together in a box of things that I had given him and made for him... helps me, touches me, heals me. What a sweet, unexpected blessing.
Wednesday, 13 February 2008
11:22 pm: Sitting with my big brother at Hermann Memorial Hospital in Houston. He was an amazing man and he loved me and my sister so much. He took really good care of us and now it's our turn to take care of him. David was in a motorcycle accident on Saturday, February 9 and he died today with a traumatic brain injury. He is here as an organ donor and my sister and I are going to stay with him for the next 24 to 36 hours until he goes into his final surgery. We are holding his hands and making sure his toes stay warm and covered up and just being with him for a little bit longer. Perched on his pillow, there is a valentine on one side of his head and a picture of the three of us on the other side. I'm so glad I'm here- I wouldn't be anywhere else. I love you, DuDu. I'll see you in heaven...
2:30 am: Still here~David's final surgery has been pushed back from 3am to 5:30am due to the logistics of getting all the different transplant teams and surgeons that need to be here all here at the same time. We will have been here in the transplant center about 31 hours with him when he goes to surgery- fighting sleep and wanting to stay awake to be with him every second. So far, his amazing nurse Amy has placed his heart, his liver, his pancreas, and both kidneys. He has continued to stay on life support to keep his organs healthy and functioning, but he's clinically been gone since 6:25 yesterday afternoon. It's been so good to be here with him and continue to take care of him- and it's reassuring to still see his chest rising and falling for a little while longer. He is starting to look more like himself- the swelling in his face has gone down a lot in the past couple of days and that's reassuring too. It's going to be so hard to say goodbye when they come to get him in about 5 hours. Jesus, give us strength to let him go- we know he is already yours and happier than he's been in a long time. Thank you for the little bit of extra time we have had with him.
It's been 19 months since I wrote that and just this week, I got something in the mail that brought it all back- but in a sweet, tender way. I received a package from Carla, his wife with a note that said this:
"Angie, I was going through more boxes and found these. I thought you might like to have them. I didn't find anything for anyone else that he had saved. You were very special to Dave and he loved you very much! Carla"
Included in the package were random pictures I had drawn for him, valentines cards, pictures of me from camping trips (particularly the one where he was supposed to be watching me when I was 2 and I jumped off a picnic table and knocked out both my front teeth), and just all kinds of things a little sister gives her big brother. Here are a few samples:
A picture I drew at age 7 for him when David and my dad built our family dog Misty her dog house- Misty has a caption over her head that says, "I think this is my lucky day!"
A letter I wrote David when he was away at college that says, "Dear David, Merry Christmas! I love you very much. I hope you have a very merry Christmas with lots of silver bells and a stocking full of goodies. I am waiting up for Santa and will put in a good word for you! Lotsa' Love, Angie
There was a child's classroom valentine that I signed "To David from Angela your sister in 2nd grade."
There was a 1st grade spelling list from May 3, 1977 with all ten words listed out.
There were rhyming worksheets where I had to color the objects that rhymed (bat, cat).
There was a "God's Eye" craft that I made at Camp Pearl Wheat in Kerville, TX for him to hang in his car... which he did for a year or so.
There is a birthday card that I colored him when I was eight years old. Inside it says: "Dear Old Man, How do you feel? Let's get on with the business. I like you Mr. 20 year old man. Love, Angie"
There is the long letter I wrote him when I was 13 in 1982 that says in part, "Now I want you to enjoy yourself up there [in New Orleans where he had just moved], but henceforth frometh my lips cometh a command: Go git yerself a girlie! Open your mouth and ask one out for me, ok? Love, your charming, loveable, adorable, cute, sweet, pretty, funny and modest baby sister (angie)!"
And finally, my three favorite letters to him (and his pet peeves):
"Dear David, I am sory I steped on your foot! You know nobdoys perfete. Anyway I am realy sory!! Love Angie (I must have been in first or second grade- hence the spelling!)
This one is typed- I was maybe in 3rd grade and I walked into his room and saw his christmas present for me not yet wrapped sitting on his bed- it was a Crystal Gayle album: "To David. I forgot to knock again. Some Day I Will Learn! Please Forgive Me. Angela PS.I hope you like flowers, here are some for you: **********************************************************************************
Lastly, I must confess that I am a bread lover. Always have been. Apparently I like gravy as evidenced in the following letter, I think I was about 10 years old... it's in cursive, but not dated:
"Dear David, You know at supper? When you said all I do is eat bread and gravy? Well just right now I don't realy care if I have a big fat toe or I'm ten pounds over weight. If it irratates you just don't look at me! Love, Angie. PS: I really love you.
When I opened the envelope from Carla, I read her note and waited to look at anything until my husband could sit and look at it with me because I knew I would lose it. And I did... but it was sweet memories of a sweet relationship... my eyes are tearing now thinking of it and looking at these things again. Just to know that he saved them- he kept them all together in a box of things that I had given him and made for him... helps me, touches me, heals me. What a sweet, unexpected blessing.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
20
Twenty staples out today... one by one... sting-y, but not unbearable. The scar looks good and will most likely be a nice thin line. The doctor and PA marveled at my progress- especially since the last time they saw me I had ultra-low blood pressure, fever, angry intestines, and hair that hadn't been washed for five days. Bleh. Bonus: I get to take a real shower tomorrow with no garbage bag taped to my leg!
My blessing of a friend Brenda Moore took me and we had a great time- stopping for Starbucks afterward to celebrate. I had my ultra-favorite Sweetened Green Tea Lemonade (you should try it) and a celebratory chocolate chip cookie. I have lost ten pounds since the surgery- I seriously think they had me full of bags and bags of IV fluid that I have since peed out. :)
My work continues as I try to bend to 110* (I'm still only on 85* with a great deal of pain and drugs). More importantly, I have to be able to get it completely straight. I've been walking incorrectly for so long (with a bent leg that couldn't straighten)- I fear that's going to be where the real pain and work comes in. And all of this has to be accomplished before scar tissue sets in and they have to "break through" it... which doesn't sound fun at all. However, the blessing in all of this is that my leg is greatly straightened... it had started to curve inward at the knee- the bone was collapsing because of arthritis. I'm really excited about having two straight legs again!
Prayers are appreciated as I continue to heal. :)
My blessing of a friend Brenda Moore took me and we had a great time- stopping for Starbucks afterward to celebrate. I had my ultra-favorite Sweetened Green Tea Lemonade (you should try it) and a celebratory chocolate chip cookie. I have lost ten pounds since the surgery- I seriously think they had me full of bags and bags of IV fluid that I have since peed out. :)
My work continues as I try to bend to 110* (I'm still only on 85* with a great deal of pain and drugs). More importantly, I have to be able to get it completely straight. I've been walking incorrectly for so long (with a bent leg that couldn't straighten)- I fear that's going to be where the real pain and work comes in. And all of this has to be accomplished before scar tissue sets in and they have to "break through" it... which doesn't sound fun at all. However, the blessing in all of this is that my leg is greatly straightened... it had started to curve inward at the knee- the bone was collapsing because of arthritis. I'm really excited about having two straight legs again!
Prayers are appreciated as I continue to heal. :)
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
By Your Stripes...
I drug myself to work today and got payroll done and paid the bills that couldn't wait. Paying bills on Percocet makes me nervous, but I double checked everything and made sure it was all right!
Still can't put all my weight on my right leg- maybe about 40% or so with crutches- but progressing! I can feel right where they screwed my new knee into my shin- sometimes the pain is unbelievable. By Your stripes, i am healed.
And my stomach is better- the ugly bout of Ulcerated Colitis is all but gone- I finished my antibiotic for that today. Hopefully the good/bad bacteria stay in balance without the help of any more antibiotics. By Your stripes, i am healed.
Now it's all about pushing forward through the pain and getting WELL. How I want to be healthy again- Lord, please grant me this while I am young enough to enjoy it. By Your stripes, i am healed.
I am yours. amen.
Still can't put all my weight on my right leg- maybe about 40% or so with crutches- but progressing! I can feel right where they screwed my new knee into my shin- sometimes the pain is unbelievable. By Your stripes, i am healed.
And my stomach is better- the ugly bout of Ulcerated Colitis is all but gone- I finished my antibiotic for that today. Hopefully the good/bad bacteria stay in balance without the help of any more antibiotics. By Your stripes, i am healed.
Now it's all about pushing forward through the pain and getting WELL. How I want to be healthy again- Lord, please grant me this while I am young enough to enjoy it. By Your stripes, i am healed.
I am yours. amen.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
How to Have a Colonoscopy at Age 39 in Twenty Easy Steps
1. Go into the hospital for a LONG-awaited knee replacement surgery. Must also have bone spur on side of knee and a Baker's Cyst behind said knee is helpful as well. (Helpful hint: Make sure your insurance has pre-approved the surgery or it could get expensive!)
2. Get crucial dose of antibiotics into your IV before the surgery to fight off any infections lurking in the knee area so you are not as susceptible to infection after the surgery.
3. It is very helpful to have Lupus and a suppressed immune system- the immune system (the white blood cells, the "good guys") must be suppressed because with Lupus, white blood cells overproduce into the billions and then turn on each other and their own Home Sweet Home. Henceforth, the white blood cells will be called Flesh Eating Zombies.
4. Make it out of the surgery with flying colors- anticipating the traditional three-day stay for this procedure. Eat a light Dinner on Day One.
5. On day two, be sure to order a full breakfast and lunch and eat them both. They will be the last meals you eat for a while. Take a leisurely stroll to the nurses station and back. Marvel at your accomplishment. Meanwhile in your body, the proactive dose of antibiotics you were given becomes very confused as it roams around. Who are the good guys? Who are the bad guys? There are so many of the white ones, and they are really quite menacing... the antibiotic decides to take them all out as a precaution. To the Flesh Eating Zombies... something more powerful than they are has entered their turf (a la Crypts vs. Bloods). And it's killing them all. Don't worry, the cost would be too high to have a funeral for each white blood cell (I mean Flesh Eating Zombie) that dies- they'll be taken care of in the next step or two.
6. Around suppertime on Day Two, start to get a stomach ache unlike any other you've ever had before. Watch your abdomen swell as if you were pregnant with an alien baby. Marvel as it becomes more painful than your knee, where bones have been sawed in half in two places- on the shin and the thigh- where the new and improved bionic knee has been placed with lots and lots of screws. You'll be forgetting about your knee for a while. Meanwhile, the antibiotic is doing a little dance in your intestines for killing off all the helpful bacteria that lives in there. It decides the bad bacteria (which everyone has to a small degree) can stay because we all know it's the bad kids that make parties more fun. A lot of the bad bacteria start pairing off like bad kids at an unsupervised party- finding dark corners and empty bedrooms...and they make lots and lots of bad bacteria babies.
7. The evening of day two, begin throwing up. Really do it up right. Un-controllable and projectile are two words that describe what you must aim for. After everything you've eaten for the past four days has been expunged (this will take about three hours), move on to throwing up bright yellow bile (sorry folks, but that's what happens when there's nothing left to puke). Do this for about three hours. By now it's about five in the morning and you can finish up with a couple of hours of dry heaves- you know, the kind where the inside of your belly button almost comes out of your mouth.
8. Day Three Dawns: Don't eat anything today... you don't want to give your body more ammunition. At this point, it helps to think you're just having a bad reaction to the General Anesthesia from the surgery. Realize that your stomach is too tender to move or even touch. Discover that the north end of "Home sweet Home" seems to be spent and you should now start worrying about the south end... better known as "the other side of the tramp stamp (not that I have one!)." Spend day three hobbling back and forth from the bed to the potty with a walker that somebody's grandma used in this room last week, sometimes making it in time, and sometimes not. Allow the humiliation to set in. You are completely weak and dependent. Not to fear, though, bile is still at the party and is ready to Party On, Wayne (Party on, Garth)!
9. Meet the Internist doctor who has been called in to consult. Allow him to prod your stomach like he's kneading a batch of dough. Cry. A lot. Promise to come up out of the hospital bed and personally introduce someone to Jesus if they don't give you more pain medication. Kiss the nurse that brings in the Dilauded drip. As you drift into dreamland, vaguely hear that you've been scheduled for a CAT scan of your stomach.
10. Have your CAT Scan. Allow them to draw gallons of blood for tests. Watch your arms turn a groovy shade of purple and green and yellow (still on Dilauded, remember?) Provide four "separate occurrences" of stool samples so they can count the white blood cells in your stool (I have a new Dirty Job for that guy on TV). Marvel that your body still has anything in it left at all to get rid of... but it does, my friend... it does. Endure another horrible night just like the last.
11. Day Four and Five: Get blood results back and find you've become severely, deathly anemic. Get put on a "NO FOOD OR DRINK diet to give your intestines a break. Have just a sip of water with your oral pills- no more than a couple ounces at a time. Just for fun, for a 24 hour time period lower your blood pressure to 60/30. Run a high fever. Get results of CAT Scan- Colitis. Never heard of it. It means your intestines are severely inflamed. huh. But are they treating you with the right antibiotics? HMMM. How can they find out? Continue diarrhea and next-to-nothing blood pressure. Meet the Gastroentologist called in to find out. Start feeling uneasy knowing something wicked this way comes...
12. Allow the nurses to poke you four times with a heavy grade IV line because your newest drip is going to be thick. In order to achieve this, your whole body must be swollen with all the fluids they've been pumping into you so they can't find your veins. Have your knee doctor tell you that your knee is cleared to go home, but your butt has to stay. Seriously.
13. Just for fun, start your period.
13. Have a blood transfusion. Have another blood transfusion.
14. Get stool results back- Find that you don't have the deathly (literally) wicked bacteria in your colon/intestines- that's the good news- but the bad news is that something is definitely going on in there. And Dr. Gastro is dying to find out what it is. He asks (while you are sitting on the toilet making ungodly noises from all orifices, no less) for consent to do a -gulp- colonoscopy. In your delirium, you agree. Anything to make the poopy stop. Confirm they are going to knock you out.
15. Mentally prepare for medical rape. Not enough time to prepare... they arrive in 15 minutes. Do they really need so many tv screens? Have this conversation with the assistant: (assistant) "So, Angela, do you know what we're going to be doing to you today?" (me) "Yeah, I hear you're going to be sticking something up my butt." (assistant) "Yes, that's about it- minus the medical terminology." Gratefully accept one gram of Dilaudid. Begin procedure. (I'll spare the details here but basically... ick.) Scream, cry, and plead for the doc to stop as he tries to "round a corner of my intestine". Hold procedure. Wait for nurse to bring one more gram of Dilaudid. Wait for a minute for it to kick in, all the while knowing there's a camera up your butt. The procedure goes on and they can go deeper and deeper- finally getting to the infected part- which is covered in ulcers. Watch with druggy fascination. (Again, I won't go into details- but think of the grossest thing you can and multiply that by about 10.) Watch a grabby alligator clip come in and rip off a piece of two separate ulcers. The farther they go, the more there are. Cry with relief when it's over- and feel like you need a scalding hot shower; unfortunately the whole knee surgery thing prevents that. (Oh yeah... I had knee surgery. I forgot.)
16. Day Six: things start to slow down intestinally and your stomach seems to be a tiny bit less tender with decreased stabbing pains. Antibiotics have been changed and increased according to my new diagnosis: Ulcerated Colitis. Start the pills with "good bugs" for your intestines- which have all been killed and flushed... literally. Feel a little perkier from yesterday's blood transfusions. Blood pressure is still low, but not dangerous anymore. Blood work comes back looking good. Get up and walk around a little. Get put on a "Clear Liquid Diet". Drink about a quarter cup of broth, eat some jello (whoever created jello is a GENIUS) and have a Popsicle. Keep it all down (maybe "in" is a better word). Watch the Jerry Springer show and feel better about your own current situation.
17. Day Seven: Get moved up to a liquid diet- eat some unidentifiable soup and keep it where it's supposed to be. Lower your fever to around 99-100*. Raise your blood pressure a little more. Sit through a wound check- which is really swollen but seems to be healing great. Have the Internal medicine doctor come in and tell you he thinks you're on the mend... and that your butt can now go home with your knee. Hooray!
18. Have all IV's disconnected, free yourself from the CPM (Continual Passive Motion) machine, which has now fondly been dubbed the Constant Pain Machine and let your loved ones pack up your stuff. Sign a bunch of papers.
19. Try to fit yourself into a minivan when you cannot lift, bend, or move your giant, pain-filled leg.
20. Make it to home sweet home and sleep on your feather bed with your feather pillow and down comforter. Thank God for His Glorious Protection. Take Valium and Percocet (the dose that was prescribed... don't freak out) and don't wake up until 11am the next day. You don't even have to click your heels three times to know that "There's no place like home!"
2. Get crucial dose of antibiotics into your IV before the surgery to fight off any infections lurking in the knee area so you are not as susceptible to infection after the surgery.
3. It is very helpful to have Lupus and a suppressed immune system- the immune system (the white blood cells, the "good guys") must be suppressed because with Lupus, white blood cells overproduce into the billions and then turn on each other and their own Home Sweet Home. Henceforth, the white blood cells will be called Flesh Eating Zombies.
4. Make it out of the surgery with flying colors- anticipating the traditional three-day stay for this procedure. Eat a light Dinner on Day One.
5. On day two, be sure to order a full breakfast and lunch and eat them both. They will be the last meals you eat for a while. Take a leisurely stroll to the nurses station and back. Marvel at your accomplishment. Meanwhile in your body, the proactive dose of antibiotics you were given becomes very confused as it roams around. Who are the good guys? Who are the bad guys? There are so many of the white ones, and they are really quite menacing... the antibiotic decides to take them all out as a precaution. To the Flesh Eating Zombies... something more powerful than they are has entered their turf (a la Crypts vs. Bloods). And it's killing them all. Don't worry, the cost would be too high to have a funeral for each white blood cell (I mean Flesh Eating Zombie) that dies- they'll be taken care of in the next step or two.
6. Around suppertime on Day Two, start to get a stomach ache unlike any other you've ever had before. Watch your abdomen swell as if you were pregnant with an alien baby. Marvel as it becomes more painful than your knee, where bones have been sawed in half in two places- on the shin and the thigh- where the new and improved bionic knee has been placed with lots and lots of screws. You'll be forgetting about your knee for a while. Meanwhile, the antibiotic is doing a little dance in your intestines for killing off all the helpful bacteria that lives in there. It decides the bad bacteria (which everyone has to a small degree) can stay because we all know it's the bad kids that make parties more fun. A lot of the bad bacteria start pairing off like bad kids at an unsupervised party- finding dark corners and empty bedrooms...and they make lots and lots of bad bacteria babies.
7. The evening of day two, begin throwing up. Really do it up right. Un-controllable and projectile are two words that describe what you must aim for. After everything you've eaten for the past four days has been expunged (this will take about three hours), move on to throwing up bright yellow bile (sorry folks, but that's what happens when there's nothing left to puke). Do this for about three hours. By now it's about five in the morning and you can finish up with a couple of hours of dry heaves- you know, the kind where the inside of your belly button almost comes out of your mouth.
8. Day Three Dawns: Don't eat anything today... you don't want to give your body more ammunition. At this point, it helps to think you're just having a bad reaction to the General Anesthesia from the surgery. Realize that your stomach is too tender to move or even touch. Discover that the north end of "Home sweet Home" seems to be spent and you should now start worrying about the south end... better known as "the other side of the tramp stamp (not that I have one!)." Spend day three hobbling back and forth from the bed to the potty with a walker that somebody's grandma used in this room last week, sometimes making it in time, and sometimes not. Allow the humiliation to set in. You are completely weak and dependent. Not to fear, though, bile is still at the party and is ready to Party On, Wayne (Party on, Garth)!
9. Meet the Internist doctor who has been called in to consult. Allow him to prod your stomach like he's kneading a batch of dough. Cry. A lot. Promise to come up out of the hospital bed and personally introduce someone to Jesus if they don't give you more pain medication. Kiss the nurse that brings in the Dilauded drip. As you drift into dreamland, vaguely hear that you've been scheduled for a CAT scan of your stomach.
10. Have your CAT Scan. Allow them to draw gallons of blood for tests. Watch your arms turn a groovy shade of purple and green and yellow (still on Dilauded, remember?) Provide four "separate occurrences" of stool samples so they can count the white blood cells in your stool (I have a new Dirty Job for that guy on TV). Marvel that your body still has anything in it left at all to get rid of... but it does, my friend... it does. Endure another horrible night just like the last.
11. Day Four and Five: Get blood results back and find you've become severely, deathly anemic. Get put on a "NO FOOD OR DRINK diet to give your intestines a break. Have just a sip of water with your oral pills- no more than a couple ounces at a time. Just for fun, for a 24 hour time period lower your blood pressure to 60/30. Run a high fever. Get results of CAT Scan- Colitis. Never heard of it. It means your intestines are severely inflamed. huh. But are they treating you with the right antibiotics? HMMM. How can they find out? Continue diarrhea and next-to-nothing blood pressure. Meet the Gastroentologist called in to find out. Start feeling uneasy knowing something wicked this way comes...
12. Allow the nurses to poke you four times with a heavy grade IV line because your newest drip is going to be thick. In order to achieve this, your whole body must be swollen with all the fluids they've been pumping into you so they can't find your veins. Have your knee doctor tell you that your knee is cleared to go home, but your butt has to stay. Seriously.
13. Just for fun, start your period.
13. Have a blood transfusion. Have another blood transfusion.
14. Get stool results back- Find that you don't have the deathly (literally) wicked bacteria in your colon/intestines- that's the good news- but the bad news is that something is definitely going on in there. And Dr. Gastro is dying to find out what it is. He asks (while you are sitting on the toilet making ungodly noises from all orifices, no less) for consent to do a -gulp- colonoscopy. In your delirium, you agree. Anything to make the poopy stop. Confirm they are going to knock you out.
15. Mentally prepare for medical rape. Not enough time to prepare... they arrive in 15 minutes. Do they really need so many tv screens? Have this conversation with the assistant: (assistant) "So, Angela, do you know what we're going to be doing to you today?" (me) "Yeah, I hear you're going to be sticking something up my butt." (assistant) "Yes, that's about it- minus the medical terminology." Gratefully accept one gram of Dilaudid. Begin procedure. (I'll spare the details here but basically... ick.) Scream, cry, and plead for the doc to stop as he tries to "round a corner of my intestine". Hold procedure. Wait for nurse to bring one more gram of Dilaudid. Wait for a minute for it to kick in, all the while knowing there's a camera up your butt. The procedure goes on and they can go deeper and deeper- finally getting to the infected part- which is covered in ulcers. Watch with druggy fascination. (Again, I won't go into details- but think of the grossest thing you can and multiply that by about 10.) Watch a grabby alligator clip come in and rip off a piece of two separate ulcers. The farther they go, the more there are. Cry with relief when it's over- and feel like you need a scalding hot shower; unfortunately the whole knee surgery thing prevents that. (Oh yeah... I had knee surgery. I forgot.)
16. Day Six: things start to slow down intestinally and your stomach seems to be a tiny bit less tender with decreased stabbing pains. Antibiotics have been changed and increased according to my new diagnosis: Ulcerated Colitis. Start the pills with "good bugs" for your intestines- which have all been killed and flushed... literally. Feel a little perkier from yesterday's blood transfusions. Blood pressure is still low, but not dangerous anymore. Blood work comes back looking good. Get up and walk around a little. Get put on a "Clear Liquid Diet". Drink about a quarter cup of broth, eat some jello (whoever created jello is a GENIUS) and have a Popsicle. Keep it all down (maybe "in" is a better word). Watch the Jerry Springer show and feel better about your own current situation.
17. Day Seven: Get moved up to a liquid diet- eat some unidentifiable soup and keep it where it's supposed to be. Lower your fever to around 99-100*. Raise your blood pressure a little more. Sit through a wound check- which is really swollen but seems to be healing great. Have the Internal medicine doctor come in and tell you he thinks you're on the mend... and that your butt can now go home with your knee. Hooray!
18. Have all IV's disconnected, free yourself from the CPM (Continual Passive Motion) machine, which has now fondly been dubbed the Constant Pain Machine and let your loved ones pack up your stuff. Sign a bunch of papers.
19. Try to fit yourself into a minivan when you cannot lift, bend, or move your giant, pain-filled leg.
20. Make it to home sweet home and sleep on your feather bed with your feather pillow and down comforter. Thank God for His Glorious Protection. Take Valium and Percocet (the dose that was prescribed... don't freak out) and don't wake up until 11am the next day. You don't even have to click your heels three times to know that "There's no place like home!"
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