Anniversaries Part II

Tuesday, day 11 of our marriage:

The Dr Liljegren saw me that morning and I had taken two doses of antibiotics. She cleaned me out again and drew on my chest to mark the areas of redness and told me if I felt flu like, my fever went over 100 or if the redness spread to call or go to the ER. I assured Joseph I would be fine and made him go off to school after the appointment. I spent the day on the couch. I had a good size bandage on my chest and thank goodness for the pain killers because I would start watching the clock each time a dose was wearing off. I was moving slowly and had soreness down my left arm but desperately wanted a shower that evening. As Joseph began to help me, I was unsteady with the fever and pain. He pulled off the bandage and we both looked and the area of redness had clearly grown.

I remember first looking into his eyes as he stood close to me in the bathroom and there was this moment when we shared the fear...this sense that this was NOT good. After taking a breath and both saying it out loud we decided that a shower would still be a good thing before returning to the ER. It was about 830 pm at the time. We dressed me carefully, as the pain had increased since earlier in the day and drove the mile to the ER. I can't forget that ride, the vibration of the car caused shooting pain that took my breath away and the dread of this being bad grew.

Our favorite ER doc Ernie Meloche was on that night. Relieving some of the stress especially for Joseph. He knew he could trust Ernie's judgement. As the hours passed in the ER I was feeling worse. At the time I thought I was sleep deprived. By midnight I was being formally admitted to the hospital. An IV was started in the ER and I vaguely remember being wheeled upstairs, a nurse letting me have more painkillers and some discussions about getting Joseph a chair he could sleep in in the room, despite the nurses encouragement that he go home. He kept telling them that he would not leave me alone.

Of course there's the early morning blood draws and vitals check that wake you no matter what. I awoke in pain and so fuzzy in my brain. We had a decision to make. We both knew he needed to be at school. He had missed one day this week. We had invested thousands of dollars into this program and were counting on this Welding program being part of the financial stability we wanted for us as a family for the future. I told him he had to go. I had nurse's and CNA's and I would be fine. I remember him calling my boss that morning, leaving a message before we opened, saying I was in the hospital and I was very ill and we didn't know when I would be back at work.

 Day 12 of our marriage:
 
That morning, the hospital doctor came in and wanted to look. I couldn't tolerate the poking and prodding. And gasped and burst into tears with the smallest pressure. He expressed significant concern about how much pain I was in. He told me I was on Vancomyacin and that the levels in my blood would be checked to be sure they were getting high enough. I had started shots in my belly, Heparin, twice a day, to be sure that I wouldn't get blood clots from being in a hospital bed and it seemed like as soon as I got to sleep that day people came in to draw more blood. My IV site was tender and the Vancomyacin going in would burn. My veins and body seemed so sensitive. The antibiotic dose usually can flow at a rate to be completed in 2.5 hours but the burning sensation meant they had to slow it to a rate of 4-5 hours. I woke for lunch and vaguely remember calling a few family members to tell them I was in the hospital and to spread the news. I simply said at that point that I had an infection on my chest, under my breast and that I was on strong antibiotics. I could barely sit up, raise my arm, or maneuver myself for the pain and probably sounded like a wreck on the phone. Silly me actually called my boss and spoke to her. She assured me I needed to focus on getting better and all was fine at the office. I returned some texts from work that afternoon. I think I was grasping at some normalcy.

Just after lunch about 2ish the staff that entered my room looked different. They were wearing long yellow gowns, gloves, face shields. Obviously I asked what was going on. The nurse said my culture that was done on Monday had come back and that I had MRSA, Methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus. It's a super-bug. Now I was actually familiar with MRSA, one of our staff had it on their arm a few months before, missed a few days of work and in our due diligence to be sure we were keeping staff and kids safe we had done some research. There are various strains, community acquired being less dangerous and hospital versions being the most deadly. I had a community acquired strain. I refreshed my memory on MRSA via my computer that hubby had dropped by at lunch and knew that this was not good but was optimistic. At this point my fever had broken and the two doses of Vancomyacin were probably working and I was coming out of my hazy, fuzzy brain status.

Joseph showed up about 3 to check in on me and I apprised him of the MRSA. The nurses encouraged him not to touch me, to which he laughed and expressed that he wasn't going to abide by that. They at least implored him to wear a gown. He responded with I was pressing on that infection all weekend, I've been around her for days, if I'm going to get it the damage is already done.

I had a lovely Quarantine sign posted on my door and had a room to myself. The doctor came by that evening and wanted to poke again. Though my brain had cleared my pain had not. At that point I was taking some kind of heavy duty pill and was thankful for it. He started talking with us and said that he was concerned about the pain. He told us that MRSA likes to "tunnel" meaning it doesn't grow in a nice little circle that it fans out through the tissue in little pathways. The location of my infection, with the proximity to my heart and lungs made him concerned that the tunneling could get into those organs. There were signs of tunneling as the pain had made a path up my sternum. He said he expected that after two doses of Vancomyacin that I would be feeling better. The ER doc had drawn a line on my skin of where the redness was twelve hours earlier and it covered the size of a hand on my chest. The area had not grown but it hadn't shrunk either. He told us both that he would order a surgical consult and said that in the morning after another dose of the Vancomyacin we would have a better idea.

About the same time as the doctor was there more blood gets taken. We spent the evening in the hospital room, watching tv, talking and making phone calls to family.

Late that night, maybe 10 pm, the nurse comes in with a much bigger bag of antibiotics. We ask why and she said that the blood tests indicated that the level of the medication in my blood stream is not high enough and I need a bigger dose. That was not encouraging.