(click on any photo to enlarge) As I sit in the house, it is dumping snow outside and I long for the outdoors and my skis. Unfortunately my healing process had a slight setback. On Thursday, Dec 2nd my foot started to swell up very badly, which was three weeks after my original surgery. Up to that point I was healing well and progressing as the doctors expected. That afternoon I went to the doctors office to find out what was up. He said I might have an infection and gave my two bottles of oral antibiotics to try to knock it down. By Saturday my ankle and foot were huge and very painful. Sunday morning I drove myself to the hospital. Once they saw my foot they immediately prepped me for surgery. At this point I was pretty spooked. The docs opened me back up and cleaned my ankle out. I woke up to an open wound and a small vacuum attached to my ankle. Not what I wanted. Anyone that knows me knows I hate hospitals and I am probably the worst patient possible. When I'm not in control, I get, lets say 'agitated'. So I'm laying in the most depressing place on earth and Christi walks in. The only thing in my life that could possibly cheer me up. She hung out and tried to put her typical positive spin on the situation. Man I love my wife. Unfortunately then the Infectious Decease Doctor walked in. She proceeded to scare the living shit out of me with stories of losing limbs and months in the hospital. Even Christi couldn't put a positive spin on the doctors description of what 'might' happen. Doctors use the word 'might' far too often. I effing hate doctors (unless I'm not the one they're treating, then they are nice as can be). So what happens in these type of situations is the crap they clean out of the infected area goes into pea tree dish to grow for a few days. Then they can figure out what strain of bacteria it is and if there is an antibiotic that can kill it. The one that is really bad is MRSA which is a strain of staph that is resistant to antibiotics. So I had to play the waiting game to see what grew in the lab. Lets say patience is a virtue I WASN'T blessed with. That night I had horrible dreams of things eating my leg off and never being able to ski or ride again. I had a very difficult couple of days. Luckily I have some great friends that came to see me and did their best to cheer me up. I was down right scared shitless. Our hiking and climbing partners Tammy and Dave Funk came every night and hung out with me when Christi couldn't be there. Without them I would have cracked. So a couple of days passed and a glimmer of good news came my way. I guess the worst bacterias grow the fastest and nothing had grown in my pea tree dish yet. Which meant they could rule out MRSA and some of the other bad MFer's. At that point I would've taken a Mike Tyson punch to the face if it meant I didn't have MRSA. On Tuesday afternoon I got a pic line installed into my biracial vein in my right bicep. This is a catheter like thing that is a mainline right to your heart. Believe it or not I was happy about this as the vampires were sticking me like 6 time a day and I was sick of it. I had bruises up and down my arms like a junkie. Once they installed the pic line I started getting mainlined antibiotics 4 times a day. On Wednesday my foot had finally started to look better. The antibiotics were working. That afternoon I found out I had a run of the mill staph infection that can be treated with one antibiotic. That was really good news. My outlook started to change, and consequently my foot starting getting better and better. I had surgery to close my ankle back up on Wednesday evening. 
Thank God! I was cleared to go home but we still had to organize my injection regime and find out if we could get the drugs and if I could self administer them. You wouldn't believe how effing expensive this shit is. Enter my GP and skiing partner Dr. Ryan Gini. He organized everything and got our insurance to cover most of it! What a stud! (Thanks Ryan) So Thursday afternoon Christi drove me home. Man I was so happy to be out of the hospital! As soon as I got home I limped to the living room floor, layed down and hugged the shit out of my dog. She must've thought I was crazy. That night a special delivery driver knocked on the door and handed Christi a big box of stuff. That began the daily regiment. At 6am, 2pm and 10pm everyday, FOR THE NEXT SIX WEEKS, I have to inject saline, then my antibiotics, then more saline, then a small amount of Heprin, which keeps the blood in my pic line from clotting and clogging up the line.
Thank God! I was cleared to go home but we still had to organize my injection regime and find out if we could get the drugs and if I could self administer them. You wouldn't believe how effing expensive this shit is. Enter my GP and skiing partner Dr. Ryan Gini. He organized everything and got our insurance to cover most of it! What a stud! (Thanks Ryan) So Thursday afternoon Christi drove me home. Man I was so happy to be out of the hospital! As soon as I got home I limped to the living room floor, layed down and hugged the shit out of my dog. She must've thought I was crazy. That night a special delivery driver knocked on the door and handed Christi a big box of stuff. That began the daily regiment. At 6am, 2pm and 10pm everyday, FOR THE NEXT SIX WEEKS, I have to inject saline, then my antibiotics, then more saline, then a small amount of Heprin, which keeps the blood in my pic line from clotting and clogging up the line.
Sounds fun, huh? All I can say is it beats the hospital. I now have done a full week of injections and its nothing more than an inconvenience. There have been days that I want to sleep a little more than 8 hours but its not that bad. My ankle is healing and I go to the doctor on Tuesday, Dec 21st to get an xray and if everything looks good I get to get rid of the crutches and actually start to walk on my ankle. I can't wait. I might even get the green light to ride the trainer! I want to thank all my friends that gave me support and visited me in the hospital - Meat, Gregor, DK, Rich, Roger, Dave Fish and especially the Funks. Thanks to all with helping me through this bullshit. Jan 17th is the day I get my pic line taken out and my life will begin again. 31 more days. I hope everyone that reads this has a Happy Holiday season and enjoys their health and the company of their friends and family, because those are the only things in life that matter.
