As it is-A report with pics.

December.
I've been into hospital again, for the forth time.  This visit was another 'debridement of the wound to the left thigh'.  A short stay. Two nights. Light general anesthetic. 


The wound would not heal.  Radiation has made it difficult for the natural healing process to complete.  A centimeter long section of the original incision would not bind leaving an opening, leading to a tunnel of necrotic fatty tissue under the path of the wound to the drain site where a yellow fluid oozed.  I changed the dressing twice a day. 

With stiches,

and without

We, the surgeon, my carer and partner Jo and I decided to fix the problem surgically.  I was wheeled in on November 24th to the same operating theatre as the first, on September 29th. I was dispatched to the place where memory does not keep records and two thirds of the wound was superficially cut open.

The cleaned superficial incision. A shot taken of the theatre screen monitor.

A saline solution blasted the 'non-viable' tissue away and the wound was prepared and then stapled with 20 stainless steel staples spaced at about 8mm along the length of the cut.

Taking care of the wound.

 I stayed in the same ward, at the same hospital blessed with same crew of nurses in a different room. I was comfortable and tender and on a steady does of analgesic, (Endone). I am now at home on a course of antibiotics too treat two bugs which showed up on the culture which they grow from a swab taken routinely at the time of surgery. The body reacts to bacteria by inflaming the site with fluid and white blood cells.  The penecillin will kill the bugs, the inflamation with settle and the wound will dry and heal. Bedrest and a positive attitude will give the best opportunity for all of this to happen.  Bedrest is not as easy as you might think but its worth the effort. I know you know I am right.   

Another thousand words.



Grattitude in my Attitude.

Crikey-How long has it been?  Compared to the young man in the Bali goal for 2 more weeks after found in possession of 25 gams of cannabis, about the same.
Or disappeared political prisoners awaiting a trial in China, not very long.
Or road trauma victims where the carnage is so easily avoided and the pain is so harsh on friends and  relatives, for all of whom the recovery is so difficult, also not very long.  Long enough however to consider carefully the attitude with which I approach all of my experiences. 

As far as pain is concerned, I found it is the work of the mind that sets the disposition.  My attitude is drawn from a combination of my values and my pride. My ego requires that I identify with personal qualities which comply with my chosen values. Therefore,  I am strong in the challenge of overcoming a radiated wound, nearly 3 months without earning a wage and learning to walk with dexterity and strength.  I am proud and strong sayeth me from the mountain of my blog. What is this strength?  Will power?  Force of personality? An association of images that I like to like?   I sense a veil here.  I smell the smoke and see the mirrors. I am a searcher and I seek a shift in attitude so that I fly better. 

Grattitude is grace in understanding a source of energy with us and around us and is what we are.  Grattitude is thanks for that presence in the awareness it is love. Love is the mystery, the binding force, the infinite incarnations.  It is the incomprehensible night sky.  I for one am deeply grateful for the presence of this mystery.  I cannot hope to understand how love weaves into suffering like white lines on the highway at night, or where it is going, but I can give thanks.  

My mind is released from the fight.
Desire is a fire smoking nearby.
Fear is a movie showing everywhere.
Anger is angry and shows up from time to time with a gang out to create harm. 
Grief lurks behind dragging pity along to see the show.
Love is presense, always has been, always will be.
For that I am grateful for it gives my mind a bed to sleep on.

The Mongrel Hour

I did go to hospital from Thursday the 3rd to Sunday the 6th of November.  Like a tax on my system a lot of my physical resources were taken up building new tissue for the unfinished gnarly section of the wound (shown earlier).

As son as the 'dirty' section was cleaned up and sewn together allowing new healthy tissue to bring the wound together, I felt better.  I was last on the surgery list since the wound is technically referred too as 'dirty' due to the necrotic (dead)  material.  The ice cold anesthetic took the journey from my wrist up my arm and in the last moment I felt a rasp in my throat and I was gone. In Post Op (post operative care) I had a drain from the wound and a little more swelling and a tight feeling where the new stitches were sewn, but I felt lighter, still tender but not burdened. A man next to me was struggling as he came to consciousness. He wanted to stand but couldn't. He seemed to be in pain.  There was so many of us.  I was in a section where eleven operating theaters were available and all were in use.

Surgery for the third time, showing the surgeons signature which marks the spot.

Now the work begins.  In hospital I had a couple of meetings with the in-house physio therapist  who advised how to progress with rehabilitation.  The wasted, hard muscles of my thigh and those around my knee (Rectus Femoris, Sartorius, Vastas Medialis and Abductor Brevus), have stopped working for the moment and encouraging them back into service is all about pulling at scar tissue, within the wounds tolerance.  I do several stretches every 2 hours and then cool it down with ice.  I can feel progress but its a dog of a job.  Last night I woke in a dream at midnight watching a list of names for 'wound' in a thousand different languages.  Together with the image was a pressing urge to get these stupid muscles working.  I pushed, prodded, iced, strained and entreated the dead leg to wake.  By 2.00 am I felt the leg had noticed the urgency in my tone and had responded positively.  I am able to walk in a fashion without the aid of crutches for half a dozen steps.  If I can get my leg to bend at the knee past 90 degrees I will be able to explore what might be possible on a stationary bike.  Once on the bike, I fancy things will start to get better a quicker pace.

Balancing pain with rest is a careful calculation.  If I can avoid the painkillers by ensuring that I do not over exert myself I sleep better and heal better.  However there are times when I have felt stressed by the discomfort and popped a couple of pills which in general are opiates or similar.  I sleep around two hours at a spell and move around then sleep again.  Its a mongrel of time and nothing seems easy.  A carers job must be at least as difficult as the nong getting things right again.  It's  a testy difficult, ornery, painful,stupid, frustrating, aching, dip-shit mongrel hour and I can see the seconds pass in a time zone I have never seen or heard before.