Is It Over Yet?

Our life usually tends to lean towards the crazy side instead of the normal. However, our normal craziness has been replaced with some bizarre roller coaster ride this past week.

Thursday evening I noticed a small lump on my inner left thigh. I really did not think much of it since I had been at the OBGYN that morning and they found nothing wrong with me. Joe looked at it and said maybe it was the start of a pimple or something. It grew a little on Friday and Mom gave me some black drawing salve to put on it. By Saturday evening it was the size of my fist and very painful. All that night I suffered with fever and chills, by the next morning the "boil" was larger than both of my hands put together. Sunday I made it through Easter lunch and egg hunt, but by Sunday afternoon I was miserable. I had exceeded my maximum dose of Tylenol for the day and still could not get my high fever to break. I headed to the ER with Joe to have what I thought was a boil lanced, get a bottle of antibiotics, and be home in time to put the kids to bed. This was my normal crazy life, the bizarre happened when I got there.

After looking at my growing problem, the first words out of the E.R. doctor's mouth were, "This is way out of my league. I'm going to have to call in the surgeon." I can assure you those were not the words that I wanted to hear. After consulting with the surgeon, I had to undergo a CAT scan to make sure that the infection had not spread into my pelvis. The bad part was that the chemical they inject during the CAT scan is passed through breast milk and is harmful to babies. That meant no breast feeding for 48 hours. (Good thing I had plenty of milk pumped and stored in the freezer.) The CAT scan results came back good and the surgeon lanced, drained, and then packed what they were now calling an abscess. The surgeon was pretty sure that we were dealing with MRSA so I was put on a very strong IV antibiotic and admitted to the hospital.

This really took us off guard, so Joe decided to go home and get a few things and then come back to spend the night with me. It seemed like it took him an awfully long time to get back. When he did get back, I found out why. Just as he was getting to our driveway, he hit a deer. It took out my driver side headlight and signal light and put a dent in the driver side door. Joe had to use his truck to come back to the hospital since my vehicle no longer had lights. When he came back out of the drive, he saw the deer still in the road. He got out and checked and the deer was still alive but with what he thought was a broken back. He did not have a gun with him, but knew he needed to kill the deer to get it out of its misery. (And so we could have meat for the freezer) Anyway, since he did not have a gun in the truck, my redneck husband killed the deer by hitting it in the head with a baseball bat. (I know you are cringing, I cringed too when I heard about it.) Joe loaded the deer up in the back of his truck and took it to his Dad's house. His Dad was going to deal with it so that Joe could get back to me at the hospital.

Once again, this was the normal crazy life. The bizarre part is that later that night Joe's brother heard a noise outside. He looked out the door in time to see the deer raise it's head, get up, jump out of the truck, and run into the woods. How does a deer come back to life? I guess in bizarro world anything is possible.

Back to the hospital. You would think being in the hospital meant that I would get some rest. Think again. I ended up on the one floor of the hospital that was being renovated. So in between the constant fever, chills, and needles; I heard skill saws, hammers, and drills right outside my room all day long. The nights were not much better. They scrubbed and waxed the floors at night with a machine that is louder than Joe's eighteen wheeler.

I was actually continuing to get worse, so the surgeon put me to sleep Tuesday afternoon and went back into the abscess. He inserted two drainage tubes that I will have removed next week. That is when things started to really turn around. I felt much much better after surgery. Turns out I did have MRSA. The antibiotics for MRSA are too strong for Micah to get them in his breast milk, so I continued to pump and dump as he continued to drink the last of the stored breast milk mixed with formula.The antibiotic (vancamiacin) is really tough on your veins. I blew ten (yes I said ten) IV's during my five day stay. My arms look like I am a heroin addict. By Thursday, I had no usable veins left so they put me on oral meds and sent me home! I was so happy to see my house and family.

We are following very strict measures to sanitize everything and try to keep this germ contained to me, but the fear is still there that I am going to give this to my children. When I got home, Noah was complaining of a sore throat and I could see tiny little blisters way at the back of his mouth. Paranoia set in and by Friday morning we were on the way to the Dr. with him. Turns out Noah just had a bad cold and the Dr. gave him some medicine that is already making him feel better.

But once again, it could not be a normal appointment like other people experience. While we were in the doctor's office waiting room, Jonah got stung on the hand by a wasp! His fingers started swelling immediately, but after some ice and TLC, he was fine.

I can not nurse Micah for two more weeks and we are out of stored milk, so he is on formula now while I am still pumping and dumping. It is a big adjustment for us. I am used to just lifting my shirt and feeding, usually while in a semi-sleeping state. This washing, mixing, and warming bottles is ridiculous. Why would anyone actually choose to do this? And while I am on the formula issue, let me just mention the poop. Yuck, yuck, double yuck, gag. Enough said.

So, is it over yet? I have no idea, but I sure hope so. I mean really, what else could happen? Then again.....Maybe I shouldn't ask that question. I think I will just sit back, close my eyes, and try to find humor in this bizarre ride that we are on.