Lj Idol Week 3: A Moment of Bliss
This is being posted by supremegoddess1, who is being a good friend and taking a dictation from blueashke over the phone. blueashke is still in the hospital but should be released some time tomorrow.
This is my sixth hospitalization. I have recurrent cellulitis on my lower right leg. I've had this for almost four years now. Each time has been worse and each time has had a different cause.
The first question I'm always asked when I'm admitted is what I'm allergic to. Without thinking, I rattle off the first - Septra. Since I started being hospitalized for this condition, I have had to add two more drugs to that list - Clindamycin and Keflex. This has led to me being required to be hospitalized and given the IV antibiotic Vancomycin. The big problem with Vanco is that it's extremely bad for your veins. Where I used to be the patient that they gave all the interns a chance to stick for the IV, I now require the most skilled stick on the ward at any given time. I am currently on my third IV in four days, which is the result of six attempts. Vanco also has has the side effect of being ototoxic, which means that if it's given to me too quickly or too many times, I can go deaf. Come to think of it, I have actually had more hearing problems in the last year than I had before. Obviously Vanco is not something I should be using every time I get sick and yet this is the third time I've been in the hospital for this problem this year.
When I came to the ER on early Monday morning, my fever was high enough that I was partially delirious. I do remember, however, a resident asking me if I had considered the decolonization therapy being done by a local hospital. This is the first time I had ever heard of it. While I didn't remember it very well until two days later, my mother remembered and mentioned it to me the next day when I was starting to feel a little bit more human.
I was elated. I verbally pounced on the next doctor I saw and asked him what this decolonization therapy was all about. He gave a sad smile, and admitted that he had suggested the same thing to my main doctor. While the therapy is merely a course of two concurrent antibiotics being given a week at a time every four weeks, the first of the two drugs was Septra.
I was crestfallen. I had only been given Septra once in my life, as a small child. My mother rushed me back to the doctor's office because I looked like I had chicken pox. I asked the doctor if I could possibly *try* taking Septra, since I was already in the hospital. He admitted that he was only a resident and that the decision would lie with my main doctor. With that knowledge, I made a request to see her, and waited.
When Dr. H showed up several hours later, I inundated her with questions and suggestions, explaining what I had learn and asking her *please* could I have a trial of Septra while I was still here. Unlike some doctors, she actually listened. She explained that she was working with the infectious disease doctor, Dr. F, and that she would have to run it by him, but that she didn't see a reason not to try. Two hours later, I got the good news that I would begin a very small course of Septra on Thursday morning.
Thursday morning came, and I had my morning dose of Vanco. It takes over two hours to administer, so it was actually almost noon when I began the Septra. It came in six doses, each increasing by a factor of ten, beginning with .0008 mg in 50 mL of saline. Each one would take 30 minutes, during which time the nursing staff would monitor me for a rash or difficulty breathing.
After several hours, I was on the 6th and final dose of 80 mg, the recommended dosage for the decolonization. During the final dose, Dr. F himself came to see me. After seeing that I was still doing alright, he explained a bit more about the therapy and told me that it could take up to a year to finish, which would mean possibly postponing the bariatric surgery. As supremegoddess1 pointed out, this is far more point than simply losing the weight. Every time my leg flares up, I could die. Dr. F assured me that as long as I finished this dose with no complications, I would be able to go home on Friday.
Thirty minutes later, I got my moment of bliss. By the time the polls are posted, I should be on my way home.
Thank you to everybody's well-wishes and to supremegoddess1 for transcribing this for me. I'll try to answer what comments I can, but remember, a vote is even better than a comment!
This is my sixth hospitalization. I have recurrent cellulitis on my lower right leg. I've had this for almost four years now. Each time has been worse and each time has had a different cause.
The first question I'm always asked when I'm admitted is what I'm allergic to. Without thinking, I rattle off the first - Septra. Since I started being hospitalized for this condition, I have had to add two more drugs to that list - Clindamycin and Keflex. This has led to me being required to be hospitalized and given the IV antibiotic Vancomycin. The big problem with Vanco is that it's extremely bad for your veins. Where I used to be the patient that they gave all the interns a chance to stick for the IV, I now require the most skilled stick on the ward at any given time. I am currently on my third IV in four days, which is the result of six attempts. Vanco also has has the side effect of being ototoxic, which means that if it's given to me too quickly or too many times, I can go deaf. Come to think of it, I have actually had more hearing problems in the last year than I had before. Obviously Vanco is not something I should be using every time I get sick and yet this is the third time I've been in the hospital for this problem this year.
When I came to the ER on early Monday morning, my fever was high enough that I was partially delirious. I do remember, however, a resident asking me if I had considered the decolonization therapy being done by a local hospital. This is the first time I had ever heard of it. While I didn't remember it very well until two days later, my mother remembered and mentioned it to me the next day when I was starting to feel a little bit more human.
I was elated. I verbally pounced on the next doctor I saw and asked him what this decolonization therapy was all about. He gave a sad smile, and admitted that he had suggested the same thing to my main doctor. While the therapy is merely a course of two concurrent antibiotics being given a week at a time every four weeks, the first of the two drugs was Septra.
I was crestfallen. I had only been given Septra once in my life, as a small child. My mother rushed me back to the doctor's office because I looked like I had chicken pox. I asked the doctor if I could possibly *try* taking Septra, since I was already in the hospital. He admitted that he was only a resident and that the decision would lie with my main doctor. With that knowledge, I made a request to see her, and waited.
When Dr. H showed up several hours later, I inundated her with questions and suggestions, explaining what I had learn and asking her *please* could I have a trial of Septra while I was still here. Unlike some doctors, she actually listened. She explained that she was working with the infectious disease doctor, Dr. F, and that she would have to run it by him, but that she didn't see a reason not to try. Two hours later, I got the good news that I would begin a very small course of Septra on Thursday morning.
Thursday morning came, and I had my morning dose of Vanco. It takes over two hours to administer, so it was actually almost noon when I began the Septra. It came in six doses, each increasing by a factor of ten, beginning with .0008 mg in 50 mL of saline. Each one would take 30 minutes, during which time the nursing staff would monitor me for a rash or difficulty breathing.
After several hours, I was on the 6th and final dose of 80 mg, the recommended dosage for the decolonization. During the final dose, Dr. F himself came to see me. After seeing that I was still doing alright, he explained a bit more about the therapy and told me that it could take up to a year to finish, which would mean possibly postponing the bariatric surgery. As supremegoddess1 pointed out, this is far more point than simply losing the weight. Every time my leg flares up, I could die. Dr. F assured me that as long as I finished this dose with no complications, I would be able to go home on Friday.
Thirty minutes later, I got my moment of bliss. By the time the polls are posted, I should be on my way home.
Thank you to everybody's well-wishes and to supremegoddess1 for transcribing this for me. I'll try to answer what comments I can, but remember, a vote is even better than a comment!