Rumours of my demise have been greatly exaggerated...
...so keep yer mitts offa my stuff!
Okay, so long story short: When I first got my knee replaced in 2005, things went well. I even headed over to Australia to do my student teaching and got nice and tan and strong, hiking and laying out and whatnot. But when I got back, I got an intense pain in my knee, and thought, wtf? I have a titanium knee prosthetic, why doth it hurt me so? So I tried to shake it off, went to the doctor and, after some x-rays, was told that I was overworking it, go home, stay off it, ice it, and to call him back if anything changed. Well, something changed. I started to vomit and ran a crazy-high fever and then started to go in to septic shock. Seems I got a staph infection and it poisoned my blood. So I nearly bit it, but I was too out of it to really know that.
Needless to say, the docs had to yank my knee out of my body and replaced it with temporary concrete spacers, all the while injecting me for the next 3 months with antibiotics to flush the infection. That part sucked. Once I got the all clear, they proceeded to put the new knee back in and I started to heal again, and then got the St. A's job at that time. Two years passed and things seemed to be fine until this past weekend when I was asked to emcee for an amazing group of ladies (and some dudes) called BellaMinx Burly-Q. I did two back-to-back shows and then worked the next day as well, on my feet for many hours. Maybe too many. Late last night I was feeling a bit of pain but thought it would fade. So I woke up this morning and lo and behold, it did NOT fade. In fact, it hurt very much. So I got a bit scared. Not too much, but I proceeded to get my things in order and had my friend Adam drive me to the Emergency Room. I was preparing to say goodbye to my leg but hoping that I was wrong, and as it turns out, no infection. I spent over six hours in the ER, watching tube after tube of my crimson blood spill out of me into a nurse's careful hands, getting x-rayed, and listening to people moan, scream, and curse at the policemen who handcuffed them to their gurneys. Hey, inner city ER's are never boring, that's for sure!
So it was just a flare-up of arthritis, nothing major, no need to rip my knee from my body again so I am doing okay. I am just a bit on edge, which is understandable. I mean, I only get one more knee replacement if I am lucky, after that, I need to replace the leg. I am okay with that, I really am. I mean, I do have another one, you know.
So I am feeling loving and remiss that I cannot tell everyone I know how much they truly mean to me, and how much I really appreciate their friendship. I hope to be around for a lot longer, there is still so much to be done. I am simply too busy, today was *not* a good day to die. So there Death, put that in yer pipe and smoke it! Jerk.
Okay, so long story short: When I first got my knee replaced in 2005, things went well. I even headed over to Australia to do my student teaching and got nice and tan and strong, hiking and laying out and whatnot. But when I got back, I got an intense pain in my knee, and thought, wtf? I have a titanium knee prosthetic, why doth it hurt me so? So I tried to shake it off, went to the doctor and, after some x-rays, was told that I was overworking it, go home, stay off it, ice it, and to call him back if anything changed. Well, something changed. I started to vomit and ran a crazy-high fever and then started to go in to septic shock. Seems I got a staph infection and it poisoned my blood. So I nearly bit it, but I was too out of it to really know that.
Needless to say, the docs had to yank my knee out of my body and replaced it with temporary concrete spacers, all the while injecting me for the next 3 months with antibiotics to flush the infection. That part sucked. Once I got the all clear, they proceeded to put the new knee back in and I started to heal again, and then got the St. A's job at that time. Two years passed and things seemed to be fine until this past weekend when I was asked to emcee for an amazing group of ladies (and some dudes) called BellaMinx Burly-Q. I did two back-to-back shows and then worked the next day as well, on my feet for many hours. Maybe too many. Late last night I was feeling a bit of pain but thought it would fade. So I woke up this morning and lo and behold, it did NOT fade. In fact, it hurt very much. So I got a bit scared. Not too much, but I proceeded to get my things in order and had my friend Adam drive me to the Emergency Room. I was preparing to say goodbye to my leg but hoping that I was wrong, and as it turns out, no infection. I spent over six hours in the ER, watching tube after tube of my crimson blood spill out of me into a nurse's careful hands, getting x-rayed, and listening to people moan, scream, and curse at the policemen who handcuffed them to their gurneys. Hey, inner city ER's are never boring, that's for sure!
So it was just a flare-up of arthritis, nothing major, no need to rip my knee from my body again so I am doing okay. I am just a bit on edge, which is understandable. I mean, I only get one more knee replacement if I am lucky, after that, I need to replace the leg. I am okay with that, I really am. I mean, I do have another one, you know.
So I am feeling loving and remiss that I cannot tell everyone I know how much they truly mean to me, and how much I really appreciate their friendship. I hope to be around for a lot longer, there is still so much to be done. I am simply too busy, today was *not* a good day to die. So there Death, put that in yer pipe and smoke it! Jerk.