Mainly, I write this so I'll remember. I am hoping the day will come when I can forget it. It is long and tedious. If you're seeing this, I've tried to give you fair warning.
Three glorious weeks in Sanibel. The weather was beautiful, the company stellar, the rest welcomed. On the last full day, just Mr. L and me, I began to have pain in my jaw, that I thought was TMJ. Periodically, over the past several years, I will have TMJ pain that is readily taken care of by 2 Advil and not lying on the sofa in my den with my head resting on the arm. This day, however, 2 Advil did not phase the pain. It increased during the afternoon and interfered with restful sleep that night.
Saturday morning found me in extreme pain and an inability to open my mouth very wide. Still, I am thinking this is just a bad flare-up of TMJ. Our flight home was scheduled at 5:15 pm so we had the whole day to kill. Killing time for the Switzers is one of the hardest things in the world. We are more "let's get this show on the road" kind of folks, but it was a glorious day on the island and we found ways to spend that time. The problem was, I was in an enormous amount of pain. I had oatmeal for breakfast because I was unable to chew anything and could barely get the spoon in my mouth. I had a smoothie for lunch. During the course of the day, I took multiple Advil, Aleves, and drank 3 ounces of Jack Daniels Whiskey just trying to get away from the pain. Nothing worked.
We arrived at the airport 3 hours before our flight. Anyone who flies knows that's a ridiculous amount of waiting, but it was just the best we could do. About thirty minutes before our scheduled boarding time, the announcement came across that our flight had been delayed. I sincerely thought I was going to lie down in the floor and wail in disappointment. Turns out, a flight earlier in the day headed for Providence, RI had been delayed, so the airline decided to put those people on our plane and then send us later. Maybe that made sense, except for the fact that those destined for Providence were told to return to the gate at 6:30 for their flight, and their flight took off at 5:15. So, a plane with 19 travelers (Mr. L counted them as they boarded) took off to RI while another 20-30 were told they had missed the plane because they came to the gate at the time they were told. Security had to be called to handle those irate folks. Pretty much, everyone in that gate was unhappy.
Finally, we get to board and head home. All I could think about was taking a warm bath, putting warm compresses on my aching face, and sleeping in my own bed. After that warm bath, I noticed a small pocket of swelling in my jaw. I thought to myself that I must have an abscessed tooth and I would have to call the dentist first thing Monday. At midnight, I woke up and realized that the swelling had increased significantly and at 2:00 am it had increased even more. I woke Mr. L, showed him the swelling, he called our daughter, an NP, who said, "take her to the emergency room." I think we both thought that was extreme, but we asked her advice and we trust her, so we followed her suggestion. Both of us were thinking that the hospital would give me an antibiotic shot and tell me to call my dentist on Monday. We were wrong.
When the ER doctor said that she felt they should keep me in the hospital, Mr. L asked, "what do you think that means?" I said, "I guess they are going to admit me?" He said, "maybe they are just going to watch you here in the ER." So, I thought, I bet he's right, I feel better. Not much later, the doctor said, "well, we're going to put you in ICU, does that sound reasonable?" Mr. L and I looked at each other incredulously, but my face continued to swell, and the ICU seemed more reasonable that going home.
Three nights in the ICU, not much sleep, Codes Blue, at least one death. I had a compromised airway, could not swallow anything, so no food and no liquids for 40 hours or so. The nurses were wonderful and attentive. The last day in the ICU we learned that I had a bacterial infection that had moved to my bloodstream. I was on massive IV antibiotics. I did not really understand what that meant until my nurse mentioned the word "septic." That, I understood, but how could someone not feel badly and be septic? It's funny how the little things become so important. I was so ready to move to a regular room where I could get a shower. On day 4 I was moved. The shower had to wait until the next day, but at least I was a step closer.
More days in the hospital waiting for the bacteria to be identified. It was Parvimonus micra, apparently very rare. I learned later that this was the first time St. Thomas Hospital had ever seen it. More days waiting for them to figure out what antibiotic would be most effective against it. One morning I woke up with a swollen knee. This caused a bit of alarm among the doctors with the concern that it might be the bacteria in my knee. So, I had my knee drained by a radiologist who, apparently, was unaware that a person was attached to the knee. That was NO fun! The fluid was questionable for the bacterial because white blood cells were there indicating they were fighting something. The fluid did not grow the bacteria, thank Goodness.
The usual back and forth, up and down that come with medical diagnoses. My family was more aware of the danger of the situation than I was. It is hard to watch the people you love stressed and fearful, and feel like you're causing it, even though you know it was nothing you did. It truly is easier to be the patient, in spite of the pain and needles and knee drainings than it is to watch someone you love go through all that. Finally, I was dismissed on oral antibiotics, the best thing I could hope for, and I was ecstatic to go home. There truly is no place like home.
People were so nice...nurses, caregivers, doctors, those who brought me my meals, and let me say, the food in St. Thomas is not bad at all, in fact it is pretty yummy. I left the hospital still with jaw pain, unable to open my mouth very far, so, of course that had to be addressed. The oral surgeon I was told to see worked wonders in that regard, and I can now eat and chew again. I have a couple more doctors to see in an effort to try to figure out what in the world this whole thing was about and where it started in my body. I doubt we will ever figure out where I actually picked up the bacteria. I find myself a bit paranoid at every twinge, but, hopefully, as I get further from the hospital experience, that will improve as well. I am grateful beyond my ability to express for all the cards and prayers and flowers and texts and calls, just the love that was shown me.
What I knew intellectually but what was brought back to mind is, life can be interrupted in various ways. I hope I'm done with this, I truly do, but unexpected interruptions are going to occur. I just hope I have the good sense to stop and mark the event, take the lessons it offers, and come away a better, more compassionate and empathetic person.
