It's been a long couple of days. It all started Wednesday, when I had a sore in my armpit that was causing me some pain. I was at work, talking to my co-worker about it and she said it sounded like I maybe had an in grown hair. I have never had one before and if I did it must not have bothered me enough to know that that's what the problem was. So, I went home that morning and took a good look at this pea sized round bump under my skin trying to find anything unusual that may be causing the annoying problem. I even grabbed my mirror that enlarges images 10X and investigated, but couldn't really see the culprit. So, I had Dave, who by the way thinks I over react whenever I think something must be wrong with me, and told him to play doctor (in the not fun way!) and see if he could figure out the cause of my discomfort. He gave my arm pit a 2 second look and said he may have found what could be in grown hairs. I was pretty tired and willing to do what needed to be done to hopefully get rid of this. So, I grabbed the tweezers, soaked them in alcohol, handed them over, closed my eyes, held my breath, and told him to take them out. "OUCH! I think you pulled off some of my skin!" I said. He assured me he'd gotten the hairs from the center of the lump and not my skin. Whew, I fell into bed, hoping to wake up with the problem gone.
I pulled myself to the bathroom, still groggy from my sleep, looked into the mirror, only to see the bump was not only still there, but now more pink. Ugh! Later that night, I got to work and consulted with my nurse friend and this time I wanted her to take a look. She looks and says I should probably have it checked out. No need to convince me to see the doc. As the night went on, the burning pain was increasing and I was just hoping my doc would be able to fit me into her already booked schedule on a Friday. Great, I have the weekend off and now have to deal with who knows what is going on in my arm. Luckily for me, the doc was able to fit me in, unfortunately it would be right in the middle of my sleep (since I worked nights), but I was ready to take whatever I could get. I strolled into the clinic in a daze and was happy to be seen right away. Diagnosis: Cellulitis. If it gets bigger it would maybe need to be lanced and drained, but until then, antibiotics, heat, and pain meds would hopefully get me through.
The next 24 hours, I found myself looking at the lump every time I passed the bathroom mirror. Of course, I also had to have Dave look every time too. You could tell he was getting tired of looking at it by the roll of his eyes and response of "Yep still looks red and swollen." My whole arm started to tingle and the burning pain was getting more intense. The cherry red diameter was growing and lifting my arm was no longer a taken for granted luxury. I thought to myself, "maybe I need to give the antibiotics more time." I really didn't want to go into ER to have it lanced and more importantly I was nervous that they would put me on a different antibiotic where I wouldn't be able to nurse Brinlee. I've been there, done that with Mason and boy was that depressing. Pumping and dumping for 10 days, only to find out that the infection I had at that time, did not go away and thus I needed to do it all over again. But, over the next 24 hours, it became clear that this bump was not going away and was screaming at me to go get it checked out again. So, I gathered up a magazine, my Ipod, and a bottle of water and headed to the ER. Thank goodness I brought those things, since the wait time was 2 hours before I saw a doc. Don't get me wrong though. I didn't mind the wait. After all, the fate of this lump was in the doc's hands and I wasn't looking forward to what was sure to come.
I settled on the gurney, shut my eyes, and tried to sleep while I waited. The doc comes in and my relaxed feelings took a back burner. My mind was already spinning with what I was sure he would say before he even has a chance to tell me. After a brief hx, a look, and feel of this lump, which by the way is in my right arm, he tells me it will need to be lanced.
He left the room to gather his supplies and I looked up at the white tiles in the ceiling and said a prayer. I needed strength. I was over tired and could feel the emotions flooding through. He prepped my arm, I grabbed the side rail with my left arm, and took a few deep breaths. 4 pokes to infuse the numbing medicine, which stung so bad you would think it was on fire. It took everything in me to not pull my right arm away. It was finally numb and he did what he needed to do. I didn't even want to catch a glimpse of what was going on so I made sure to keep my head turned the other way. Isn't it something when you are the patient?? I can assist or clean wounds without a problem, but my whole demeanor changes when I'm the one needing treatment. He ended up packing the lump, which won't be removed till Tuesday. This sucks! Then he says he wants to add another antibiotic. Before I can ask that it be something that is compatible with nursing, I feel my eyes well up with tears. Thanks to my lack of sleep, hormones, and vivid memory from my previous experience were all flooding me with emotions. The doc checked with the Pharmacist and found a med that I was able to take while continuing to nurse. Whew! What a relief! Now, I pray that this will finally heal.
I know there are a lot of worse things that could be happening right now. This is just a little bump in my road. What is sad is that Mason and Lilah go through this similar experience quite often. I have empathy for them each time, but now a greater sense of what they must be going through. I am hoping that they will grow out of it and not have to deal with it for the rest of their lives. They sure are tough little cookies, unlike their mama!
Cute Memory: About 6 months ago while I was pregnant, Mason and I layed on the couch watching "My Sister's Keeper." I thought I knew what this movie was going to be about, but it turned out to be far greater than I imagined. Well, I was sobbing like a baby and unable to stop when Mason turned to me. Without saying a word, he grabbed my hand and interlocked his fingers into mine and then wiped a few of my tears. Boy, did the tears pour out after that! It was one of the most precious moments of my life!
No comments:
Post a Comment