"No thought, no reflection, no analysis, no cultivation, no intention; let it settle itself." - Tilopa

Life, is just life...I have everything in the world to be grateful for and my predicament pails in comparison to those in Haiti, my heart goes out to that nation.  Unfortunately, Annie and Greg took me to the ER on Sunday morning for oozing that had begun from the top of my hip incision that morning.  Ironically, the oozing eased and relieved the tremendous pressure building in and around the incision and I was again able to bear weight on my left leg while walking with crutches.  After three hours waiting, I was admitted.  


They quickly ascertained I did not have a hematoma as thought on Friday and the collection of fluid was indeed "alien juice" (aka puss) from the infection.  In fact, what was thought to be a superficial infection on Friday, was a full-blown deep-tissue infection.  I was in surgery by 4pm for an irrigation, debris removal and fluid evacuation. While there, the surgeon noticed the infection had made it to the entry/exit point of the femoral nail. He took a tissue sample and left the wound completely open and put an elastic/rubber surgical dressing over the hole.

Of course Annie was by my side, always my light and supportive partner.  My Dad and Catherine were in the area for a conference, we had originally planned on spending time with them, but certainly not in the ER or hospital.  I was grateful for their presence, compassion and support.  Greg gave up his entire Sunday to be with us, he is truly a friend.  He brought a level head, sound advice, supportive and positive energy, I was grateful for his selflessness.

I was admitted to the hospital for observation and antibiotics.  I was put on what I like to call the "Vampire" drug, Vancomician.  It kills everything, including your hearing and kidneys if not monitored properly. 

Monday brought new and painful experiences.  The nurses removed the surgical dressing and installed a WoundVAC.  Essentially, they stuffed the wound with special packing foam and installed a suction cup of sorts to the top and a tube is attached to a pump that creates negative pressure and sucks out bad fluid and allows the wound to heal from the bottom up.  Monday concluded with the infectious disease doctor, who told me it was staph and we were waiting on cultures to determine the strain and susceptibility.  So I continued with a regular IV and the Vampire drug and one more night in the hospital.  I'll keep my perspective on hospital doctors to myself and simply comment on the quality of the nurses, which was superb.  

Tuesday brought new information and new "installations".  I found that I had the MSSA strain of staph, better news than having MRSA (which is a killer).   In order to go home and get a six week cycle of Nafcillian, equally effective on this strain, but less impact on my body, they needed to install a PICC line, essentially a central catheter inside a major vein that leads directly to my heart.  That process sucked and over all the damn thing is uncomfortable.  Once they'd installed the PICC they hooked that up to a battery powered pump that automatically administers a dose every for hours.  So, I have a woundVAC bag hanging off my left side and a PICC pump hanging off my right arm, needless to say mobility is pretty limited.  A few hours later I was happy to be discharged and go home.  Sleep had been elusive for nearly 5 nights and both Annie and I were ready to go home and get some sleep.


I have had this in draft form for many days now.  I have more pictures (Greg is chronicling the healing process) and certainly commentary to add for these past few days.  Annie and Greg have been incredible.  They've taken extremely good care of me.  I leave this post with a simple closing, "Infection, Infection you are my Rejection!", I will live to run again!