It looks like we are winning the fight against the infection.
The surgeon's office did two tests when we went there. The first one confirmed that I have an infectious bug in there. The second confirmed that the antibiotics I am taking do kill this kind of bug. So now it's just a matter of being sure we take enough of it to kill all the big we can and hope that it hasn't attached itself to my bionic parts.
ICK WARNING!
A couple of days ago, the hole looked like it was closing up, but something had formed nearby. It felt like a puffy blister, but it wasn't a blister. The doc described it as an "infection tract" and that it sounded like a normal reaction. The doc said it sounded like a normal condition but we needed to keep an eye on it.
With that info we waited until late yesterday when we changed the bandage and inspected the area. When the bandage came off, we were surprised with a good bit of bloody ooze dripping from the hole in my heel. So we look at the puffy place and it is dark purply, but it is no longer raised and pressing gently on the spot causes more dripping. So we keep pressing until the dripping stops and then bandage everything back up.
ALL CLEAR!
This morning I get up and start moving around. The heel still hurts like crazy, but after moving around a bit it eases up some. "J" calls the surgeons office this morning and give the details. They say it all sounds like good and normal progress against the infection! Yay!
So I'm up, working, moving, and it is well into the tolerable pain area. In fact, right now my left foot and hip are bothering me far more than my right heel.
Sounds like another baby step in the right direction!
Next up, if something else doesn't happen, is an appointment with the surgeon Thursday to evaluate the infection and see if I'm ready to start the physical therapy that'll get me walking again.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Saturday, April 26, 2008
How It Happened
We went to a geoevent today and while there I had to keep telling the story of what happened. Although this medium obviously won't tell everyone in the world the story, it's a start. So here goes.
One bright, lovely morning "J" and I went after a couple of FTF's and breakfast. We got one, got STF on the other, then off to breakfast we go. On the way there (Cafe Java, a GREAT place) we passed a cache called "Humpty Dumpty". Don't look for it. It's been archived.
This cache had been on my radar for a while and I had a bad feeling about it from day one. But any cache in my home turf that I haven't gotten just gnaws at me. It taunts me. As we pass by I say something about always wanting to stop and grab it, but I probably shouldn't. We had breakfast and we were headed back home. We get close to the cache site and we decide to stop and I'll just go "check it out".
So we find a place to park and "J" decides to stay with the "X" (my xTerra, not my ex-wife) while I go to the cache. I get there and I'm faced with a 20-25' retaining wall. It's those dry-fit blocks. The big ones. I knew from the description and talking to other cachers that climbing was required. I test out the blocks to be sure there is enough room for good hand and toe holds. All looks good. I climb up a row or two just to be sure. Still good. So I make the momentous decision. I go for it.
I climbed up the wall just fine. I traversed from side to side checking out some obvious hiding places. Then I start feeling my hands and toes getting tired and I decide it's time to get down before I get too tired to hold on any longer. So I start working my way down, getting my feet down a couple of rows. I make sure they are well in place and I start moving my right hand to a lower point.
It is right then that the block I am holding with my left hand just flies out of its place. In a blink of an eye I tried to get my right hand to a block. At the same time I thought of the trash can below me that had a bundle of sticks and limbs sticking straight up out of it. Then I have the realization that I'm going down.
With the can in mind, and my body starting to fall back, I push off out and a little to my right to avoid the can. Then that 30 year old Marine training kicked in. I thought to hit the ground fairly squarely with my feet, trying to flex mainly on the balls of my feet, and go into a "tuck and roll".
It would have worked if Round Rock would learn how to lay a sidewalk straight and level, but this one was angled to one side and that made my feet hit squarely on both heels. The moment I hit I tucked and rolled, but I felt something give and I knew something had broken. I thought it was one or both ankles. When I came to stop I grabbed my cell phone and called Julie and told her, "Get over here, I think I broke my ankles!". She started asking a question and I yelled at her to "Shut up and get here!"
She was there in a flash. I could see the terror in her eyes, so I took over and yelled at her to call 911. That got her into action. We spent the next few minutes trying to explain to 911 just where the heck we were. During that time I was getting my boots off. Then the pain came. In huge, mind-numbing waves.
In what seemed like the passing of eternity but was really just a few minutes, a fire department emergency unit was there and very soon after an EMT was kneeling over me and saying hi. It was then I found out I had a compound fracture with a piece of bone sticking out of the heel of my right foot. In no time they had me checked out, on a board, stabilized, then on a gurney and headed to the hospital. They were extremely good at what they did and they tried to ease my pain, but as it turns out all they had was morphine and morphine has absolutely NO effect on me.
Through the pain, about all I remember after that is getting into an ER trauma room, they took me for some x-rays and CT scans, kept trying to get morphine in me to ease my pain, and then they got me into surgery to put the bone back into my right heel and get the hole stitched up. I vaguely remember returning from that surgery, but I don't remember where I returned to.
If you want details of what happened from there until I got to the HealthSouth facility, you're pretty much on your own.
Well, that's it as best as I can remember.
One bright, lovely morning "J" and I went after a couple of FTF's and breakfast. We got one, got STF on the other, then off to breakfast we go. On the way there (Cafe Java, a GREAT place) we passed a cache called "Humpty Dumpty". Don't look for it. It's been archived.
This cache had been on my radar for a while and I had a bad feeling about it from day one. But any cache in my home turf that I haven't gotten just gnaws at me. It taunts me. As we pass by I say something about always wanting to stop and grab it, but I probably shouldn't. We had breakfast and we were headed back home. We get close to the cache site and we decide to stop and I'll just go "check it out".
So we find a place to park and "J" decides to stay with the "X" (my xTerra, not my ex-wife) while I go to the cache. I get there and I'm faced with a 20-25' retaining wall. It's those dry-fit blocks. The big ones. I knew from the description and talking to other cachers that climbing was required. I test out the blocks to be sure there is enough room for good hand and toe holds. All looks good. I climb up a row or two just to be sure. Still good. So I make the momentous decision. I go for it.
I climbed up the wall just fine. I traversed from side to side checking out some obvious hiding places. Then I start feeling my hands and toes getting tired and I decide it's time to get down before I get too tired to hold on any longer. So I start working my way down, getting my feet down a couple of rows. I make sure they are well in place and I start moving my right hand to a lower point.
It is right then that the block I am holding with my left hand just flies out of its place. In a blink of an eye I tried to get my right hand to a block. At the same time I thought of the trash can below me that had a bundle of sticks and limbs sticking straight up out of it. Then I have the realization that I'm going down.
With the can in mind, and my body starting to fall back, I push off out and a little to my right to avoid the can. Then that 30 year old Marine training kicked in. I thought to hit the ground fairly squarely with my feet, trying to flex mainly on the balls of my feet, and go into a "tuck and roll".
It would have worked if Round Rock would learn how to lay a sidewalk straight and level, but this one was angled to one side and that made my feet hit squarely on both heels. The moment I hit I tucked and rolled, but I felt something give and I knew something had broken. I thought it was one or both ankles. When I came to stop I grabbed my cell phone and called Julie and told her, "Get over here, I think I broke my ankles!". She started asking a question and I yelled at her to "Shut up and get here!"
She was there in a flash. I could see the terror in her eyes, so I took over and yelled at her to call 911. That got her into action. We spent the next few minutes trying to explain to 911 just where the heck we were. During that time I was getting my boots off. Then the pain came. In huge, mind-numbing waves.
In what seemed like the passing of eternity but was really just a few minutes, a fire department emergency unit was there and very soon after an EMT was kneeling over me and saying hi. It was then I found out I had a compound fracture with a piece of bone sticking out of the heel of my right foot. In no time they had me checked out, on a board, stabilized, then on a gurney and headed to the hospital. They were extremely good at what they did and they tried to ease my pain, but as it turns out all they had was morphine and morphine has absolutely NO effect on me.
Through the pain, about all I remember after that is getting into an ER trauma room, they took me for some x-rays and CT scans, kept trying to get morphine in me to ease my pain, and then they got me into surgery to put the bone back into my right heel and get the hole stitched up. I vaguely remember returning from that surgery, but I don't remember where I returned to.
If you want details of what happened from there until I got to the HealthSouth facility, you're pretty much on your own.
Well, that's it as best as I can remember.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
MEDICAL UPDATE 4/24/08
Things had been going pretty well, all things considered, except a few days ago the inside of my right heel started hurting and was VERY tender to the touch.
This morning "J" called my surgeon's office and they called back a little later telling us to get there later today.
We got to the office and they of course had me take off my boot and all the bandaging. Now, up to this point, there has been a small spot on the point of my heel that had been draining a little fluid ever since they took off the cast 2 months ago. It had steadily gotten better. (This was the place the bone poked through the skin when I busted it.) Ok. SO I take off the bandaging and the hole has gotten bigger and it had drained a LOT more than it has been. And this was just since last night!
So the doc comes in, twists my foot, pokes and prods, and declares that I have been invaded by some kind of bug and I've got a nice little infection going on. On the upside, it isn't uncommon and can be fought with antibiotics. On the downside, the little bug could easily attach itself to the metal in my foot and may mean the metal will have to be taken out...also, "J" has to do a little extra work to care for the wound and it MUST be done every day now.
So that's something that I get to dread for a while, but he also said taking the metal out isn't really that big of a deal...nothing like what I've already been through (I'm not sure I believe him). Also, I can continue with physical therapy and we can get me walking and stuff and deal with the metal later if needs be.
So we're back to the grind. We see the doc next week as scheduled for x-rays and evaluation. At that time he'll decide if I'm ready for the physical therapy I'll need to start the long road to being able to walk again.
With any luck there will be nothing unusual to report until then. Cross your fingers.
This morning "J" called my surgeon's office and they called back a little later telling us to get there later today.
We got to the office and they of course had me take off my boot and all the bandaging. Now, up to this point, there has been a small spot on the point of my heel that had been draining a little fluid ever since they took off the cast 2 months ago. It had steadily gotten better. (This was the place the bone poked through the skin when I busted it.) Ok. SO I take off the bandaging and the hole has gotten bigger and it had drained a LOT more than it has been. And this was just since last night!
So the doc comes in, twists my foot, pokes and prods, and declares that I have been invaded by some kind of bug and I've got a nice little infection going on. On the upside, it isn't uncommon and can be fought with antibiotics. On the downside, the little bug could easily attach itself to the metal in my foot and may mean the metal will have to be taken out...also, "J" has to do a little extra work to care for the wound and it MUST be done every day now.
So that's something that I get to dread for a while, but he also said taking the metal out isn't really that big of a deal...nothing like what I've already been through (I'm not sure I believe him). Also, I can continue with physical therapy and we can get me walking and stuff and deal with the metal later if needs be.
So we're back to the grind. We see the doc next week as scheduled for x-rays and evaluation. At that time he'll decide if I'm ready for the physical therapy I'll need to start the long road to being able to walk again.
With any luck there will be nothing unusual to report until then. Cross your fingers.
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