Houston, We Have a Problem: Tuesday, April 7, 2009 about 9 p.m.

I noticed that my lips felt really warm as I sat watching Dancing with the Stars (ummm...not my choice) with my mom at the end of my first full day home. I also felt really wiped out -- even more so than I thought I would feel. I mentioned this to my my mom, who looked appropriately concerned, and then went up to bed, hoping that I'd wake up feeling much better in the morning. Well, no such luck.

Unfortunately, it seems that I contracted a nasty incision infection at some point during my hospital stay (despite being pumped full of antibiotics). I woke up on Wednesday morning, April 8 with a 103.7 fever. Time to call Dr. E's service! The Fellow, Dr. A, called me back and told me to call to make an appointment for later that day when the office opened at 8:30 a.m. So, I did as I was told even though it took all the strengh I had to dial that number over and over again to try and get through. Once I did get through, I was told by the receptionist that I needed to call back after 9 a.m. to speak with the admin nurse. Great. So, after trying to reach the admin nurse several times, I finally just left a message and then went back up to bed to wait for her return call. I was practically delirious when my mother came in at 9:45 a.m. to let me know that the admin nurse still hadn't called and that I should try her again. Awesome.

I can't remember the specifics of my brief conversation with the admin nurse now but I just remember feeling as though I was going to cry at any moment as she questioned me about who told me that I needed to come in that day (ummm...it's your practice, don't you know?), how long had I had my 103.7 fever (ummm...who cares? It's freakin' 103.7 and I'm six days post-up, aren't you the nurse here?!), and the list goes on and on. My mother almost grabbed the phone to bitch her out but I knew that wouldn't get me anywhere with this idiot nurse, so I held on tight. Anyway, after I told her that I was not going to hang up until I had an appointment, she finally relented and gave me a 3:45 p.m. appointment with Katy, the nurse practitioner. Amen. I could finally go back to sleep with some cold compresses on my forehead.

Thank God my fever broke at about 2:30 p.m. that afternoon because I honestly think my dad was going to have to carry me to the car to get me to the appointment if I still had the high fever. And if you know the state of my father's knees, you know that wouldn't be a good scene...at all.

Fortunately, Katy was much more comforting and competent than the admin nurse. She came in and took a quick look at my incision and drew lines around the infected area. (Great, so now I had ink all over my stomach in addition to a huge incision and drain hole. This was starting to get ridiculous!) She gave me a prescription for an antibiotic and said that if the redness and swelling didn't appear much better by the next afternoon, she'd have to open up a section of the incision to let it drain. Really? Lovely. So, off I went, prescription in hand, all the while hoping for the best. And once again, no such luck.

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