It's baaa-aaack.

And I'm not talking about the snow. Rawr.

Descriptions of some things that are pretty and some that are not

Dear Internets,

Today it snowed. It was AWESOME. I woke up, fed the cats, went to put the cat food can in the recycling, and there it was right outside my kitchen window. Snow. Giant, fluffy, white flakes of snow. Gore-gee-us. More please. It made me happy all the day long.

Also today, I went to my orthopedist to follow up on my infected surgical incision (see below for whining). It was quite a surprise when he decided to clean it out with pointy tweezers and sharp scissors. It's amazing how deeply those implements can go into a completely un-anesthetized leg. Did I mention that the pointiness? And the sharpness? And that there were no drugs involved? Not even a good knock over the head with a blunt object so as to dull my senses, particularly the one of pain. Why why why? There was bleeding and gagging and hurting and gnashing of teeth, and that was just the doctor. Ba-dump bump. Any-who, there is no longer any visible white or yellow grodiness on/in my leg, thanks to pointy instruments and the weird fascination my ortho has for gross things. Hopefully, it'll be all healed up soon! Just 5 more days of crazy antibiotics.

Fingers crossed! You know -- for more snow and less pus.

Yours in the spreading of unsolicited information,

Me

My, but you've changed.

Where have I been (when not oversharing about leg grossness)? Not procrastinating! I've surprised myself, my friends, and my advisor by actually doing some work on my dissertation. Weird! I might actually finish the program one day. A girl can dream...

I've also been doing a hella lot of cooking. I think it's fall motivation. Soups galore, blueberry oatmeal crumb bars, and plenty of other yummy stuff. Yay for fall!

Well, I think I'll go do some laundry and draft a general cover letter for job searching purposes. Ah, the exciting life of a grad student.

The never-ending saga of Leggie 2.0

I was so proud of myself. I didn't whine when I had my two leg surgeries. Sure, they were uncomfortable and they inconvenienced me, but they really were far easier than I had expected, and I was grateful. The right leg (the first surgery) has healed amazingly! The scar is small and is bound to fade away to almost nothing. All in all, the whole experience has been pretty positive. Below is evidence of smooth-sailing.



That's all over now. One word -- infection. Yup, the site of my second surgery is infected. It's runny and gross and, according to my orthopedist/surgeon and his new physician's assistant, it smells like feet. Apparently, that's a sign of a particular bacteria.

Here's how it went down. Skip this paragraph if you're easily grossed out or are eating dinner. Okay, I went to the doc Monday for what was supposed to be my final follow-up appointment. I even brought some muffins for my doc and his awesome receptionist to thank them and say goodbye (I've been their patient for over a year now). BUT, when the doc took the steri-strips off of the cut, it exploded. Goo everywhere. The looks on the doc and PA's faces were a touch worrisome. They were seriously freaked out. They stammered amongst themselves, squeezed it, smelled it (what a horrible job!), squeezed it some more, pulled the edges apart (the whole length was open and you could see down into my leg -- the incision had basically not healed at all), and discussed some options. They mentioned giving me an immediate antibiotic IV, mass doses of drugs (varying depending on what kind of bacteria it was), and scheduling me for surgery the next day to open it and clean it out.

Thankfully, they went for the relatively most conservative approach -- drugs. So now, I'm on a crazy huge dose of Augmentin (1000 mg twice a day! Thank heavens I don't have a negative reaction to amoxicillin -- I hear it can be pretty awful) to try to knock out the nastiness. I go back to the doc on Friday to get it checked out. If the drugs have done their duty, yay! If not, I "get" to go back into surgery Tuesday to get it opened up and cleaned out. Charming.

Meanwhile, I'm taking photos once a day when I change the dressing so that I can track the healing. My doc called today to check on it/make sure Wound (its nickname) hadn't exploded again or begun attacking small animals and children.

I wasn't prepared for this stuff. And I'm afraid that I haven't handled it in the best way possible. I have become super grumpy. Yesterday, I was so whiny that my office mate brought me lunch to try to cheer me up. I can't deal with the idea that there is this extended family of bacteria hanging out in my leg. It's just really disturbing. So, fingers crossed that Wound makes a hasty farewell, never to be seen again. Goodbye, and good riddance!

Chances are...

...that I will never become an addict. At least not a narcotics addict. Why? Because I'm not sufficiently committed. Specifically, I would never be able to get past the constant, maddening itching. See, that's what happens when you're allergic to them, among other things (rash, swelling, severe dizziness, and trouble breathing). Thankfully, I only got the itching. But, heavens to betsy, I can't stress enough how freaking ridiculous it was! Argh!

As it turns out, you can develop a narcotics allergy. I was never allergic before. I took Vicodin after a root canal a few years ago. All it did was make me sleepy. Same with codeine in cough syrup. Nada. Just immediate sleepiness. Then, a month and a half ago, I had leg surgery. They gave me tons of Percocet. I mean, enough for the entire east side of Baltimore to enjoy themselves for months. And three days in, the itchiness. And the sleeplessness. And the fidgety wired-ness. So this time, I got smart and asked for something else, and they gave me Vicodin. In recovery, the I.V. pain killer wasn't doing the trick, so the nurse gave me a magical pill. Trusting her, I took it, only to find out seconds later that it was Percocet. Thanks, lady. So, I itched and then itched some more. When it wore off and I needed some drugs, I popped a Vicodin. Still with the itching. I just figured that the Percocet side effects were hanging out for a while. Then it got worse. Then I started leaving scratch marks on my legs and arms and face and neck and, well, you get the idea. Called the doc, and I'm allergic. So, now, it's me and my new bestest friend Advil. And it tries, it really tries. It genuinely wants to make me feel better, and it wants to make me sleep through the achiness (it's really not as bad as it could be, so I swear I'm not whining). But alas, it's only an over the counter NSAID, not a narcotic. This is my boring story for the week. Sorry folks, but if it's not happening in front of me while I'm laying on my couch, it's not happening. Stay tuned for thrilling tales of carrying food in plastic bags from the kitchen to the living room, getting my hair washed at the Hair Cuttery, and avoiding tripping over cat toys on crutches. Oooo!!!!

Anyone else have any war stories? Weird drug allergies? Suggestions for non-narcotic pain relief?