The Naked Onion

MRSA INCARCERATION

Wednesday, December 31st, 2008 | LIFE | No Comments

WRITTEN DURING MY HOSPITAL STAY: NOV-DEC 2008

“How long, O LORD? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me?” (Ps 13:1-2).

How Long will my lip look like a BallPark Frank? (PCH)

Lamentations 3.

“He has driven me away and made me walk in darkness rather than light; indeed He has turned His hand against me again and again, all day long. He has made my skin and my flesh grow old… Even when I call out or cry for help He shuts out my prayer… I have been deprived of peace; I have forgotten what prosperity is. So I say, “my splendor is gone and all that I had hoped from the Lord.” I remember my affliction and my wandering… I well remember them and my soul is downcast within me. Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope.

You know it’s bad when you read the book of Lamantations for comfort.

+++++++++++++++++++

Greetings from Room 414 in the heart of the beautiful Flower Hospital! It is day 4 of my incarceration. I could be here a bit longer – or they may put me on house arrest.

Today’s note: I smell funny. It is either the billions of meds doing it, the lack of personal hygeine I have grown accustomed to practicing in this semi-state of quaranteen, or I was accosted by a
clown in my sleep. I have tried scrubbing – I have tried blaming it on Phil. But alas – I simply smell funny. I have a rash too.

I have MRSA, by the way. You know – THE DREADED STAPH INFECTION.
Google it and it reads like it’s the fifth rider of the apocolypse:
all scary stories. I Googled about it… the other night… alone in the dark. I woke up at 3am crying and terrified and couldn’t figure out why I was crying and terrified. They sent in a special Nervous
Doctor to talk to me that night… She held my hand and reassured me and asked if I knew why I felt so frightend.

“Ummmm… because I read roughly 50 horror stories about MRSA while whacked out on painkillers and fell asleep?” She literally blinked twice, patted my shoulder and said, “You’ll be fine.” Exit, stage right.
Maybe I will write a book of MRSA bedtime stories. Remember the movies Disney made about VD where all the Syphillus guys were Nazi Soldiers?

My lip is looking more like Angelina Jolie’s again except mine has a huge hole in it. I mean – besides the one I harass people with. It was to the point my bottom lip LITERALLY looked like a Ball Park Frank (they plump when you cook em!). Phil has been chronicalling the entire adventure. I have had 1 surgery… minus the numbing agents. I learned from the kindly ENT surgeon that when you have an infection in your skin, numbing agents do not work. I also learned that although *I* put great personal value on being put to sleep for such adventures, the hospital views it as too risky for a 10 minute “procedure.” Let me tell you about this procedure:
The Surgeon comes in. He looks at my lip. He says, “I have to drain this.”
He throws a blue sheet over me, there is one nurse holding my hand…He cuts my skin with the scalpel, not once, not twice, but three times – gets surgical tweezers and pulls the skin from my lips… then, with all the might of a 50 something well-educated man, squeezes everything he can out of the lip.

I screamed. I cried. I hollared, “Please stop!!!” He says, “I have to do this…” I say, “I know but I feel better yelling at you…” Then went into a crying jag that lasted for an hour. I am sure the other patients were THRILLED.

The nurse introduced me to a new friend named VICODIN. I still don’t know the surgeon’s name – I suspect it’s “SATAN.”

The surgeon came back the next day to examine his work of art. He had his posse of interns this time. Without saying a word – he grabs my lips and squeezes – I scream… and cry… (again) and he says, “Have you been experiencing any pain?” To which I look at him and say,
“Uhhhhhhh…. yeah!” and the handsomest of his interns says, “Like right now?”
And the comedic scene ends with interns and surgeons alike chuckling till they exit, stage right.

They then stand in the room next door and whisper. I suspect it isn’t about how HOT I am therefore I convince myself that I must be close to death and will soon be writing my own MRSA horror story.

I got a 2nd surgery yesterday to put a PICC line in. That’s an IV that goes directly into an artery of the heart or some such. I AM NOT LOOKING IT UP… AND DO NOT TELL ME ANYTHING ABOUT IT. I would hate to have the Special Nervous Doctor make another trip to my room.

My day is filled with drugs, watching the weather channel (it is really quite interesting on drugs), naps, and social workers telling me that I can’t afford the care I am getting. I was just informed the proper term is “medications” not “drugs” — I am on “medications” which make the weather channel quite interesting.

Dr. L.C. called to assure me that God is in the mix of it all… and told me wonderful stories of how God will suddenly show up right in time.
*sigh*

I am thankful for little things – like enimas.
I mean there is a LOT more than that – but believe me, I am thankful for enimas today.

I guess this really wasn’t an update – but that was my excuse to write to y’all.
Just know it keeps getting weirder and weirder. and weirder.
I can’t wait to see what God is going to do!

I got a fruit basket and the folks at the hospital like me and got me some posies too. It was very sweet.

Please pray for my mom. She is still in rehab and it isn’t looking good. I was supposed to become her primary caretaker -

OK – I just heard someone say “Dont go in there – she’s got the MRSA!”
I think I might go stand at the door and blow some kisses.

I got “The MRSA”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

DAY 5 – THE INCARCERATION CONTINUES

I am in day 5. It is going into night 5. Which means there is going to be a day 6… A DAY 6!!!

The insurance company flatly refuses to pay for ANY of the IV drip outside of the hospital – tho it would be CONSIDERABLY cheaper to do it that way. YAY BEAUROCRACY! So the social worker (who isn’t very social, I haven’t even seen her today) is apparently sitting at some NATO-like bargaining summit representing yours truly. Wait – it’s after 5 – she’s at home.

I am thinking of holding a telethon for the worthy cause of ME – but need a celebrity spokesperson.

I am thinking “PARIS”…

Yes. I have lowered my standards to watching Paris’ BFF. SO WHAT?

The telethon will be titled: FREE PENNY

Dagnabbit. Paris just picked her next BFF. I wonder what David Hasselhoff is up to these days. (The Germans LOVE him). But I digress–

I have to report to my nurse if I pass gas, when I urinate, when I have a bowel movement and when I feel nauseous or tingly. It’s just like working in the Media Center! I KID! I KID!

There is nothing really new to report. Other than I am still here. But since I AM here –

THE REPORT:

My legs and armpits = screamin‘, “European.” It’s terribly exotic.

I lay across the hospital bed pretending to be part of a Gaugan painting.

I have no small scissors so my mustache is growing in. Maybe I should be thinking Russian artists…

PICC Line = so far so good. It still creeps me out that I have a piece of rubber threaded through my artery directly to my heart. They put it in surgically, they take it out like a lawn mower start. I can hardly wait.

Butt Crack Rash = Terror Level High.

There’s a cream for that! And it’s made by TYCO!

You know TYCO, makers of :

MATCHBOX CARS

VIEWMASTER

THE MAGIC 8-BALL

And

BUTT CREAM

I know what I’m giving as stocking stuffers!

This Morning’s Rounds = Dr. Boose (She’s really pretty – what that has to do with anything, I do not know – but she IS really pretty) talked to me and stated that perhaps the auspicious “they” could put me on an anti-biotic cocktail (oral) of something called Beezlebub and Vitriol or some such…

and perhaps that would work. It was that “perhaps” pronounced by that pristine white coat that got to me.

“’Perhaps’ it will it work?”

“We hope.”

“Well, hope is one thing when it’s attached to Jesus… it’s another thing when it’s attached to the devil in sterile gloves assaulting my soul through my lower lip while I scream for mercy.”

“Yeah… we want you on the drip.”

A VISITOR = Someone actually braved the stale air and my disheveled feral wolf-man appearance to venture into my cave to give me chocolates. The lunch lady won’t even come in my room. She gives my tray to a nurse who brings me my food! This soul bringing chocolate put on the whole surgical armour of God.

I immediately went for the caramel. What you may or may not know – when I do things like this the food is immediately considered “contaminated” for everyone else. MWUHAHAHAHA!

But the caramel about tore the skin off what is left of my lower gum around my bottom teeth. Retribution. Yes, the ol’ gums are affected. I can’t even say “Over the teeth – over the gums! Look out stomache! Here it comes!” It’s more like “Over the teeth – ARRRRGHHGRRRBLJESUSGRRRARRRGH!!!”

Let us take pause for medication time… it’s the stool softener. Gotta have this one. And gotta make sure the nurse sees me take it. Hey – this is the reality of hospital life. It’s real – it’s raw – it’s real raw.

CREAM BY TYCO.

TODAYS MOST NOTEABLE EVENTS:

My potassium level is crashing. (Affect of the antibiotics). So what’s the effect of low potassium? It is amazing how a nurse can simply not blink and say, “heart attack.”

So I had to take 2 potassium tablets. They each are the size of my co-worker Alan’s tennis shoes. They kind of smell like them too. Not that I go around smelling Alan’s shoes, mind you… I’m just saying.

Have you ever seen a pelican swallow a fish?

SAVE THE PELICAN

Last night I woke up in an utter anxiety attack which was interrupted by me saying aloud, “What the hell is that smell?”

What kind of anxiety attack is THAT?? Talk about being robbed. It’s not the kind that warrants the special 3am doctor visit, I’ll tell you.

In my olfactory panic, I was given a Vicodin. This must be the panacea of answers medical: Near Death? Vicodin. Stitches? Vicodin. Hang nail? Vicodin. I think “Vicodin” is Latin for “Just take the pill and shut-up.“

I sat for a few minutes then went to pee and stared at the wall paper for what seemed to be 30 seconds but I think I burned about an hour and a half. I know it sounds strange, but the pattern is white and cream and swirls around into leaves; like Heavenly clouds… well last night they were like Heavenly clouds. I actually thought of Sister Kelly (Hey – she likes pretty wallpaper – and probably bathrooms too). There I was, on the porcelain throne, jammie bottoms around my ankles, staring at the wall – thinking of Sister Kelly. I was *convinced* that this was some meaningful semblance of God trying to speak to me. “Yes. Lord.” I washed my hands (not in the toilet), gargled and rinsed with peroxide (because that’s what you do when your lip is removed) and went to bed. Still feeling anxiety but being distracted by this SMELL.

When the Doctor came in this morning, I told her that I think I would like to stop taking the Vicodin, if she didn’t mind. I then went to pee (there is nothing else to “go” do!) and the wall paper was just the wall paper, the toilet was just the toilet and life was… mundane again — Except for the smell.

I am having urination trouble so to take my mind off of it I Googled Bladder Cancer. Mental wackiness ensued.

Phil came into visit and the first words out of his mouth were, “What is that funk? I’ve never smelled that before!”

And on a final note:

Some little whipper snapper visiting patient 415 kept ding-dong-ditching me. I kid you not. They knocked on my room’s door – which I can’t open, by the way. This is NOT amusing. Children are cruel. Of course – every time they knock I do my crochety old lady’s voice of “Hellooo?“ and when they don’t answer I yell, “Leave me alone you dinged kids!”

I am taking a surgical mask and drawing fangs on it for tomorrow’s fun.

Well, my nurse, Richard, is due in tonight. I like him. He smells like flowers.

++++++++++++

Yes. Still in room 414.
Yes – still out of my mind.
Yes – it IS depressing.

Check out my signature and tell me if I don’t look super intelligent
and accomplished with those letters next to my name:

Penny Collins, M.R.S.A.
“ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny.”
“What???”

++++++++++++++++++++=

DAY 7: AT HOME

Oh You Crazy Kids,

I am *terribly* exhausted – and nauseous all the time (I think from
the meds).
I am sick and tired of being sick and tired! Open with a joke,
they said…

I found another pic of my lip right after surgery – if you can
believe it… my lip was even bigger than in the pics I sent you.

I got “cultured” by the doctor yesterday (no, she didn’t take me to
the Symphony) and the results will be here Monday or Tuesday to see
if I am still infestated with the creeping crud. The Dr. DID
prescribe a less potent antibiotic which I will start taking Monday.
Hopefully it won’t make me as sick as this one.

I still have a little swelling in my lip and a hard knot right in the
middle of it which is calcified tissue. I could join a circus, I
suppose…

It also looks as if my mom is going to Hospice care – and she will
give up the house… which theoretically frees me up to return to work.

I will have more to tell you Monday or Tuesday!

+++++++++++++++

_{+++++++++++++++}

Oh You Crazy Kids,

Did I tell you guys that one of the side effects of mixing two of my
meds (yes, I’m on a few right now) is loss of short term memory? And
I exhibit the symptom – which at first TOTALLY freaked me out. I
seriously thought I had a stroke or something (another possible,
albeit severe, side effect). My kids think it’s hysterical because I
will ask a question or tell the exact same story right after I
already said it….

I am *terribly* exhausted – and nauseous all the time (I think from
the meds).
I am sick and tired of being sick and tired! Open with a joke,
they said…

I found another pic of my lip right after surgery – if you can
believe it… my lip was even bigger than in the pics I sent you.

I got “cultured” by the doctor yesterday (no, she didn’t take me to
the Symphony) and the results will be here Monday or Tuesday to see
if I am still infestated with the creeping crud. The Dr. DID
prescribe a less potent antibiotic which I will start taking Monday.
Hopefully it won’t make me as sick as this one.

I still have a little swelling in my lip and a hard knot right in the
middle of it which is calcified tissue. I could join a circus, I
suppose…

It also looks as if my mom is going to Hospice care – and she will
give up the house… which theoretically frees me up to return to work.

I will have more to tell you Monday or Tuesday!

HARHAR! I sent you the same letter because I’m trying to be funny by
making fun of my short term memory issues! <ahem>
My comedic genius goes unrecognized.

As of today, Decmber 31, 2008 -

I AM MRSA FREE.

See You On The Other Side, Mom…

Sunday, December 28th, 2008 | LIFE | No Comments

Written Cristmas Eve 2008:

 

I can’t sleep tonite. I sit listening to music that I do not particularly feel and type about emotions that…Well… I do not particularly feel. Tonight is Christmas Eve. Merry Christmas.

Four weeks ago my mom fell down a set of 4 stairs. With ALS (Lou Gherig’’s Disease) this can be devastating. She went to the hospital for 4 days. She got 4 staples in her head but didn’t break a bone in her body. We had her transferred to a rehab facility so that we could get our ducks in a row because I was DETERMINED that I was going to be the one to take care of her at home. Period. I even went into the boss and announced that if I could not work from home or do after hours, I would have to quit.

And that was a difficult thing to do. But I did.

Three weeks ago, I developed a small pimple under my nose and one right in the middle of my lower lip. The next week was spent in the hospital getting surgery and treatment for a MRSA infection. I was released on ultra strong antibiotics and felt sick all the time. I laid around for 2 weeks not seeing mom. Phil explained that we probably wouldn’t be in the night of the 23rd because we had to do our Christmas shopping – the following day was Christmas Eve! We did our shopping for token gifts and even bought a small tree and set it up.

There was nothing harder than watching my mom deteriorate. It was horrifying for all of us – yet I saw such great strength in her vulnerability.  She once told me “Don’t leave me – I need you.”  Those were the sweetest words she has ever said to me.  It physically hurt to watch her. Especially knowing how feisty and mean she could be.  She had energy and fire. And now she struggled with everything. My gift of avoidance kicked in. That’s what I am good at. But I have grown to love that woman silly.

I always tried to anticipate her needs and wants.  Sometimes I was the one who had the magic touch… but mostly it was Phil.  He suctioned her, cleaned her trach (she preferred him to me), brushed her hair and read her the Bible when she couldn’t read any longer (at her request).  Phil visited her every morning (EARLY) and we would roll in to do our traditional WHEEL OF FORTUNE/JEOPARDY and to listen to all complaints and step in where there was stepping-in needed.  I grew terribly protective of her.

The night we went shopping, Phil and I rented crappy movies and stayed up late since there were none of the 5 kids with us. We crashed at 2 am. I awoke at 7:00am to take my meds and sit around for an obligatory ½ hour so the medicine wouldn’t cause “burning to the espphogus or stomache”. The phone rang at 7:20 and it was Lake Park Comfort Care - assuming mom was wondering where we were – or where Phil is – or, as was usually the case, she had a request for the day – I handed the phone right to Phil and sang, “It’s for yoooooo-hooooo.” I then go and pee. Suddenly I hear “OH MY GOD.” I come flying out – “Your mom died this morning….”  Phil begins to cry.

No one is sure what “happened” – if anything other than she was ready to go. She was restless the morning before which COULD have been the restlesness before death. COULD have been. But she settled in and the nurses on the floor stated that she was happy all day – chatted with her board and got on “the pot” and sat in her chair to watch the plethora of “Judge ______” shows. They tucked her in for the night – and checked on her throughout the night. At 7 they went in and she was warm but gone. The nurse said it gave her goosebumps because she never experiences anything like it – so quick.

I cannot believe she left us.

*sigh*

It feels so different…

LA BELLE DAM

Sunday, December 21st, 2008 | LIFE | 1 Comment

You all know “La Belle Dam Sans Merci”… I present to you:

La Belle Dam Avec MRSÁ

 

Yes… I have MRSA.  I spent a week in the hospital and have been at home convelescing for nearly two weeks.  The dreaded anti-biotic resistant STAPH INFECTION was/is traumatic.  I have managed to keep up with my studies, email updates to the folks I work with, not throw-up (the meds are something else) and maintain perspective.  I will post snippets of the letters I sent to people for updates later.

The infection took hold in my lip – inspiring this dramatic piece.