I'm so lucky. I'm one of the .4% of ACL surgery patients who get an infected knee. Yep, you heard me sailor. My bleeping blapping knee has what is deemed a deep infection. Here's how it happened.
Roughly Sunday - Monday, I'm finding my knee feels good although there is almost a growth like bump under my knee and to the side, right where my incisions are located. I thought it was scar tissue building up. Last night, my knee was very hot, very tender, red and then some ooze crap came out of the side incision while I was massaging my knee. The knee drained out a bunch of liquid and then blood. It felt good to release the pressure. I thought I was releasing fluid from the scar tissue. I was a little concerned because I was feeling rather poor like I was sick so I did a little looking around on the web for what this might be. I ran across information describing the most serious complication for ACL surgeries - infections. When I first read the symptoms I couldn't believe that the description was EXACTLY what I had going. Then I became nervous as I read on and then went into almost a full anxiety panic attack.
Worst case with a deep infection is death. Yep... death. That got my attention rather quickly. Death isn't what I signed up for when I chose surgery. Then I read a little more. If the infection doesn't kill you, the doctor may be required to remove the $@#& ACL graft, wait 3 months and then DO THE OPERATION AGAIN!!! Argh!! I almost passed out just thinking about this option.
Usually what happens is that the infected shlep is doped up on Chemo-like antibiotics and then the knee is drained and cleaned out like a dirty water bottle. I couldn't believe what I was reading. I took a dose of Big V and went to bed. It knocked me out.
I woke up this morning and called my doctor's office. Dr. Kim is on vacation so I was referred to Dr. Tooma. With the help of Michele and about 5 phone calls we got an appointment at 3:30. About 10 minutes later, the office calls back and alarmingly tells me to go to the emergency room immediately. If my knee is infected there's no time to waste. I jump in the car and go to the ER at Rancho Springs. I wait the usual 2 hours along with the typical crowd that frequent the DMV or bus stop. I finally get in and they tell me I need x-rays and that I need to get a powerful antibiotic via IV started asap.
I hate needles. I'm using the word hate people. I hate needles, hospitals and anything with blood. Well today was pure Hell on my phobias. They tried to put in an IV about 4 times and couldn't find a vein to hold it. Blood was going all over. I was luckily laying down on the verge of passing out as I'd look up and see blood and the nurse telling me she was unsuccessful again and would have to find a new place to stick me. Finally she found a good vein on my left arm that held up. I got x-rays to examine the new knee graft and then the IV started. The nurse tells me this is like Chemo for infections. The drug cocktail is very powerful and must be administered over 3 hours. Luckily I remembered to bring a book. I polished off a few hundred pages during the ordeal. However, about an hour into the IV drip, my vision went blurry and I within seconds I couldn't read my book. I got up and flagged down the nurse and she hit the emergency stop button. She got a little excited and started to ask what I'm allergic to that might have been overlooked. It was then that my stomach was really growling and I mentioned that I haven't eaten anything in about 24 hours. She sighed a huge relief and said that I need to eat something or this IV was going to be a bad dance partner for the next 2 hours. She was able to find me a rather nice sandwich and goodies that I woofed down like a starving inmate in solitary confinement. I finished my book and waited for the IV to finish. Dr. Tooma wasn't able to come down to see me so I'll be seeing him on Friday. Plus, there's nothing he can do until the antibiotic starts to work.
I was discharged with some prescriptions that will definitely put hair on my chest or strip all hair off my body like a seal. This stuff is wicked. I've been confined to house arrest for 7 days. I can't leave the house, have visitors or do anything but lay down with my leg elevated. Argh!! So basically they want me to slowly slip into madness - stir crazy.
I have a new phobia - getting old. While I was in the ER for 6 hours, I saw the DMV people in tremendous pain being hauled in and out of the main treatment area like cattle. One such lucky guest was put in my 4 x 6 cube with me, separated by a thin white sheet, and in some bad shape. He's 84 and had a heart attack from what I understood. He was in the ER last week for something because everyone knew him by name. Earlier I had a baby with some ridiculously horrible breathing issues. I felt just terrible for the parents until the doctor rallied on them for smoking in the car and in the house because it was a huge reason for their babies health issues. Let's see, there was a 400 lbs lady who couldn't breathe just one cube over and a car wreck victim across the way. It was enough to make me pass out for 10 life times. I don't know how these doctors and nurses do it.
Remind me to never get old or sick. This has given me new fervor to make sure I go surfing when I'm old and about to give up the ghost. I don't want to linger. I want to get pounded by a wave and then slip away. I'll take going in my sleep any day. The idea of going through so much pain is not my idea of living. Oh great, the Arizona Diamondbacks just hit another homerun on the Padres. Come on Padres! You just can't give up the long ball like that. The only consolation is that the Dodgers lost to the Pirates. Baseball is back baby!!! Maybe I can live in pain if I have a good sport subscription. Speaking of sports, I'm glad I'm under house arrest during the Masters. Go Phil!!!!
No comments:
Post a Comment