As I started writing early this morning, I was enjoying the view out my window. . .
And singing along to The Grateful Dead. . .
. . . when my fabulous nurse came in and burst out laughing and said she was so glad someone was having a party up on the cardiac floor. 😉
See, this has truly been a strange hospital admission, one for the books in so many ways – and I’m still here for several more days as far as I can tell.
First, just as far as my health goes, BOTH of my feet had to have an I & D in surgery:
The end result of that, of course, is all kinds of wound care and increased protein needs and crazy post-op pain.
Having two surgical wounds has my CRPS out of sorts – and it was already out of sorts in my left hip – and my RA is flaring in my right wrist because we’ve also had to stop some of my meds for now to help my immune system.
Again, I’ve been septic and my blood cultures were all positive and my white count was crazy high when I got here as was my lactic acid level.
In fact, the reason I’m on the cardiac floor was so I could be monitored closely when my lactic acid level was so high – I needed the telemetry. Thankfully, it has since come down, as has my white count.
My blood cultures were redrawn today and we will know in 48-72 hours if they are clear. If they are, we can then place a PICC line for me to go home on IV antibiotics.
Of course, I am more desperate to get my PICC and go than I normally even would be – because a hospital admit in times of COVID is a completely different animal.
Though I am (blessedly) on a unit far removed from any patient with respiratory illness, there are no visitors allowed in the hospital. Period.
So I have not seen my family since Thursday.
No one can come in for any reason.
My nurses have been amazing and my physicians are great as well – and I am so grateful.
Still, I haven’t seen my humans or my weenie dog in four days.
I H A T E T H I S .
There is also just an added layer of anxiety here in the hospital. It’s impossible not to feel it.
Everyone is wearing face masks. All of my nurses hands are cracking from the extra washing. Doctors are elbow bumping to greet me.
Everyone is frightened – and understandably so. Hell, I’m frightened too.
I’m deeply grateful for such good care – and I want to do whatever I need to do to be well.
But I also just want to go home.
I’m praying I will be able to very soon.
Until then, I’ll just keep on reading and writing, singing and dancing in place. . .
Be well, everybody. Take care of yourselves and each other.
Grace and Blessings.