Leave of Abscess

So… it’s been a while since my last post but a lot has happened in the past few weeks.  My ability to find sillyness in the serious was put to the test in some interesting ways and I am happy to report that, for the most part, I was successful.  I had a few moments where I had to look in unexpected places but I am fortunate to have people in my life that willingly helped me in my time of need.

It all started a few weeks ago…

I injured my butt!  It’s kind of pitiful actually… but it really happened.  I’ll spare you all the details and just give it in a nutshell:

I sat down on a small brick wall – narrow (only one brick wide) and low – but I was in a crowded festival and desperate for a place to sit and wait for a while for a friend.  The wall was lower than expected and I landed harder than anyone my size ever should.

Over the next few days I endured soreness that turned into pain from what I believed was simply a bruised “Sitz Bone” – not the medical term for it but I think it’s actually referred to as such since it’s the best way to describe it.  I believe in “The Head Bone’s Connected to the Neck Bone” song this particular verse would go like this:

            “The Tail Bone’s connected to the Hip Bone;

            the Hip Bone’s connected to the Hiney Bone;

            the Hiney Bone’s the one that you sitz upon…”

…And it hurts like a bad word when you injure it!  Apparently I set off a chain reaction when I sat on that wall.  Fluid began to collect at the injury site but had no place to go.  After a few days it swelled up and caused pain I won’t soon forget.

A few days later – that’s right, a few days later… I didn’t get to the doctor right away since my research on the bruised bone informed me that what I was experiencing was not unusual – the situation had changed drastically but not in my favor.  I thought I could endure the worst of it and surely the issue would clear up on its own.  Don’t judge me for wanting to keep my “Sitz Upon” to myself.

A quick visit to the Dr. turned into a further trip down the road to the Emergency Room. 
Diagnosis:  The injury turned into an Abscess with a Severe Infection – my surgeon said it was “the biggest he had ever seen.”  He was not referring to my “Sitz Upon” but to the abscess and infection accompanying it.

Treatment:  Immediate surgery to drain abscess and hefty doses of some powerful Antibiotics, administered through IV

The third day after surgery I was cleared for release from the hospital by the surgical team – but I did not get to go home.  Just after achieving the necessary requirement for recovering in my own environment I was notified that additional judges had weighed in and my sentence had been extended.  A combination of circumstances caused injury to my kidneys and I was in “Acute Renal Failure”:

-Consuming ibuprofen prior to arriving at the ER in a self-prescribed dose exceeding the label on the bottle

-Receiving an IV dose of a strong painkiller in the ER with similar properties

-Having a CAT Scan with IV contrast material

I couldn’t believe it.  I was very ready to go home and certainly didn’t feel like I was suffering from any additional physical problems.  I have since learned my condition was pretty serious and they had to make sure I was recovering appropriately before feeling it was safe to send me home.

I spent a total of one week in the hospital.  In that one week I had some new and undesirable experiences:

- Emergency Surgery

- Fever over 103⁰ (Right after surgery my vital signs were taken every hour and I recall hearing 103.9 at one point. I know many people have personally experienced or nursed their children through much higher than this but my normal temperature is in the 96.6 – 97.2 range so I got to cradle what seemed like an enormous ice pack for a while – that was a wonderful gift from the nurse caring for me and it achieved the desired results of cooling me down)

- Morphine!

- Kidney failure

- The roller coaster ride of emotions that accompanies a hospital visit

- No less than 30 different people have seen my “Sitz Upon” in its full splendor – more if my suspicions are correct and photos were taken for “Posteriority”

So… in all of this my typical approach was challenged and there were opportunities for my weapon of choice – laughter – to be found lacking in its power.  Fortunately, when I had little strength to wield my sword of silliness I had willing friends and family members to raise it for me.

Here are three of my favorite (though there were many more) moments in the hospital in which I giggled like a schoolgirl and my stay felt like an adventure in silliness:

1.  My nurse wanted to get me out of bed and walking around the hallways.  She offered me a few additions to the wardrobe so graciously supplied by the hospital. 

“Here is a pair of disposable underpants and a pad to put inside them to absorb the drainage from your wound (which there was a considerable amount of).” 

I held up the underpants.  My friend Weezer and I laughed at the qualifications of the apparel. Similar material to pantyhose they were very stretchy width-wise but from waistband to the hem of the leg they spanned four inches.  My “Sitz Upon”, from “waistband to the hem” is an impressive eleven inches, grading on a significant curve.  Math Major or not anyone can figure out these measurements are not equivalent. 

I opened up the sanitary pad to insert into the underpants and, no kidding; the thing was designed to line beaches in preparation for hurricane weather.  Weezer and I giggled again.  We contemplated staying in my room and conducting absorbency experiments with the apparatus but decided to obey my nurse’s instructions.  Oh the hilarity.

Getting up and walking around was the anticipated result but the actual experience was building new muscles.  I used several I was not aware I had as I slowly did a figure-8 lap of the 3^rd floor ward and successfully held the sandbag and tiny-hiney panties in place.

When we returned to my room Weezer was gracious in helping me steady myself as I shed the garment or, rather, finished what gravity had already begun.  When I struggled to get my foot out of the underpants, which was appropriately suited with the gripper socks the hospital provides (they are made with rubber, skid-proof grippers on both sides so you don’t have to worry about getting them on correctly), Weezer looked down to assess the problem. 

We both giggled uncontrollably at the sight!  My grippers were stuck to the pantyhose; half the pad was still glued to the underpants and the other half had separated from the material but stuck fast to the vinyl flooring – the adhesive in the pad can only be described as “industrial strength”.  The result – I was shackled at the ankles by my tiny-hiney panties.

My nurse at the time must have thought we were ridiculous but she did not scold us.

2.  The day I was absolutely certain I would be allowed to go home I was ecstatic.  My joy was dashed when I was told it would be at least another day.  I shed a few tears of disappointment and one of my doctors came in shortly afterward.  “We just want to keep you here a bit longer because of the amount of protein in your urine.  Your kidneys are not functioning at a high enough level yet.  I’m sorry… I know you were hoping to go home today.”

I sat there with my frustration.  Weezer was right there with me – as she was through the entire ordeal – and she knew she needed to rally.  After a few minutes of quietness she spoke up.  “Hmmm… protein in your urine, huh?  I guess that’s not a good thing and it’s best for you to stay and rest a bit longer.”

“Yeah… I guess.  But it really sucks.  I feel fine,” I whined.  “Protein in my urine… pssshaw.  Where did that come from?”

“Maybe you have a chicken hanging out in your potty!”

The mental picture put me over the edge and the next tears were from my fit of laughter.  At various quiet moments throughout the day Weezer would “cluck” and I’d lose it again every time.

3.  I shared a room with a 90-year old lady who had been in the hospital for over three weeks already.  Complications from one surgery lead her to another and I was her roommate in the days leading up to and immediately after a lengthy surgery to remove and repair a portion of her bowel.  She is an adorable lady with the cutest voice I have ever heard.

The curtain separating us offered visual privacy but certainly was not sound proof, so I was aware of everything she was experiencing.  Two days after her surgery one of her doctors came to see her and asked a standard round of questions pertaining to her recovery.  One, in particular, evoked a response from the prim and proper little lady on the other side of the curtain that I will never forget.

“Your incision looks good; I see your catheter has been removed and you are using the commode.  I know you haven’t had a bowel movement yet but have you begun to pass gas?” he asked in his authoritative voice.

“Oh no… I wouldn’t dare,” the cutie-pie responded with a shy little giggle.

I laughed out loud.

So… my last few weeks have given me lots to think about.  I am thankful for the care I received, the recovery I am experiencing and for all of the wonderful people in my life who have offered concerned prayers on my behalf.  I have also learned A LOT from this experience.

In all of this I am most thankful for my faith.  I was never scared or felt alone in any of it.  I know – without a doubt – that I was in the hands of the Greatest Physician.  How wonderful it was to feel His presence.  I know He carried me through safely.

I am also thankful that God did not decide that my time on this earth would come to an end because of this situation.  As much as I enjoy a good laugh I would still not desire my obituary to read, “She died of a busted ‘Sitz Upon’.”