Author: Jana

  • a few loose ends

    I just wanted to clarify a couple of things:
    1) I am doing better. I don’t know if I’ve come right out and said it here, but I am. Far, far better.
    2) Blogging is my therapy–meaning that the thoughts that spill out here are often some of my deepest fears and once I’ve laid them all out in black and white it’s like it’s so much easier. Those things are all cleared out of my head and I can get clarity and move on.
    3) And, people (insert drumroll), I did it–packed my own wound tonight with some coaching from John. See how my blogging about it helped to make it all better!

    :)

  • true blue


    Bleu, originally uploaded by mind on fire.

    Love this pic of CatGirl that John snapped today!

  • inside-out


    [Note: for my more gentle readers, you might want to skip this post and enjoy yourself some kittens instead. Seriously.]

    Remember that game we played as kids, Operation, where you’d have a pair of tweezers and you’d attempt to pick out a body part from your surgical patient without hitting the sides of the hole? Each time I look at the wound in my leg that game comes to mind.

    In order to get out all of the various channels of infection that were in my leg, the surgeons had to cut down deep into the soft tissue–in some places they went down about 5-7cm deep. In doing so they cut through various layers of stuff–dermis, fat, muscle, etc. Then they left the wound totally open so it would heal from the bottom-up rather than from the top-down or from the sides filling in. Leaving it open allows for the wound to be cleaned twice daily to flush out any residual infection. Then the hole is packed with clean wet gauze to absorb any yuck and so prevent it from closing prematurely. It’s also pretty damn painful.

    I am no stranger to nasty wounds. Not only have I lived with this festering infection for four months, I’ve also dealt with the healing wound of my amputated right leg, which was pretty nasty-looking for a long time (think Frankenstein).

    But for some reason I’ve been completely flummoxed by this one. Looking into the wound makes my head spin and my stomach lurch. I think it’s the cross-sections of each layer that affect me so strongly–they are slick and wet and they move. As my muscle flexes I can see it from the inside. I can see my own nasty fat. The edge of the wound has become sort of hard and dry like the way bologna looks after a few days when you forget to seal the plastic wrapper closed all the way.

    When I was discharged from the hospital my docs assumed that I could change my own bandages. What they didn’t know was that I’d only had one slim glimpse of the wound and had refused to look again. Fortunately John was on hand to do learn how to do the cleaning, packing, and bandaging. But this wound is going to take months to heal and I can’t expect to John to always be there to manage this task for me. I feel it’s time for me to be able to dress my own wound.

    But the honest truth is that I sucked at the Operation game. When I was a Bio major the only lecture I even walked out on was when were were viewing surgical slides (I went into the parking lot and dryheaved). As much as I am fascinated with the human body and it’s functions, as much as I am not grossed out by blood and poo and just about anything else ooky and bodily-related, this seems beyond me. It’s not just the pain, it’s even bigger than that.

    Quite frankly, I am embarrassed about my squeamishness. In an attempt to get more acquainted with my wound, I had John send me some of the digital photos that he’s been snapping daily so we can note any changes in color, shape, discharge, etc. I played with one of the images in photoshop, trying to take control of it and make it be something that I could get used to. No matter what I did–changing colors, saturation, fuzziness, etc, I couldn’t make it into something that I was comfortable with.

    It’s my own leg and I’m completely scared of it. Why? I don’t know. It’s not a rational response, for sure. I want to get over this, and I keep telling myself that I am brave and strong and I can do it. Any advice?

  • of stories, homes, and true gifts

    Everything in my house has a story. Just casting around a quick glance and I see our dining table chairs that I reupholstered with fabric from my friend Carole who loved cats and was also a nontraditional PhD student (I miss seeing her smile), some tealight holders that were a housewarming gift from Amy and that glow the warmest orange color, and the red oriental rug that culminated from a dumpster-diving adventure with my kids. Even the kitty who is napping on her cat tower by the window has a hand-me-down story.

    It means so much to me to surround myself with these stories–much like the satisfaction that I get from the many bookcases that line our walls.

    So when I read this quote on a favorite blog this morning, it resonated with me because of a very special gift that I received last night:

    From Christopher Alexander’s book, A Pattern Language:
    “Decor” and the concept of “interior design” have spread so widely, that very often people forget their instinct for the things they really want to keep around them… It is…fascinating to come into a room which is the living expression of a person, or a group of people, so that you can see their lives, their histories, their inclinations, displayed in manifest form around the walls, in the furniture, on the shelves. Do not be tricked into believing that modern decor must be.. anything that current taste-makers claim. It is most beautiful when it comes straight from your life–the things you care for, the things that tell your story.

    Yesterday John and CatGirl were up to some kind of mischievous project that they kept just out of my line of sight. What they did was take a handful of the colorful flower prints from my flickr page and mount them on a wire suspended from one end of the room to the other–creating a kind of floating line of photos above our bookshelves. Each of the pictures they carefully mounted on black cardstock. After explaining to me how the photos could be easily rotated and changed, John said:

    “It’s our way of bringing your garden to you.”

  • Pieces of Me mosaic meme


    My creation, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

    Have had this in the works for awhile and it seemed an easy thing to post while I’m in recovery.

    Here’s the meme:
    If you want to play too, type your answer to each of the questions below into a Flickr search. Using only the first page, choose your favorite image, then copy and paste each of the URL’s into the mosaic maker (3 columns, 4 rows). Leave a comment if you play, so I can have a peek.

    The questions:

    1. What is your first name? (Jana)
    2. What is your favorite food? (fruit)
    3. What high school did you attend? (Bakersfield)
    4. What is your favorite color? (red)
    5. Who is your celebrity crush? (Ewan McGregor)
    6. Favorite drink? (tea)
    7. Dream vacation? (train)
    8. Favorite dessert? (blancmange)
    9. What do you want to be when you grow up? (historian)
    10. What do you love most in life? (family–and it’s a bonus that this pic is of a cat family)
    11. One word to describe you. (passionate)
    12. Your Flickr name. (PilgrimGirl)

  • my new best friend

    This post will not be about my new best friend vicodin. Rather it will be about my other new best friend–the one that I’ve fondly named “Happy Belly” (or HB for short).

    You see, when one has been taking superman-strength antibiotics for several weeks at a time, one does encounter a certain amount of gastric discomfort. And add to that the slowdown of pain meds and days on end spent in bed, and…

    So I had the thought the other day to get out the heating pad from the linen cupboard (actually, I think I sent GameBoy searching for it given that I don’t really leave the bed, but whatever….). The pad, set on med or low heat felt so good to my ouchie belly. After “wearing” it for a few hours I realized that it just felt good to have something warm to snuggle up with–like the coziness of a kitty but without their predilection for putting their butt in your face when you curl up with them in bed. I especially find it comforting during my dressing changes. Three times a day John has to pull the gauze “packing” out of the hole in my leg and stuff new gauze back in. This means that I roll up in a semi-fetal position and moan, cry, and squeal until he’s done. It all goes so much smoother with HB to comfort me. HB is like my own personal Care Bear.

    When I am up to it, I am so going to crochet a charming little cover for HB. As of right now it’s bedecked in a tatty pillowcase. Not the best-looking duds for my new best friend–sort of like Dobby the house-elf’s dishrag dress.

    If you’re reading this and thinking that I’ve probably had a bit too much of my other best friend (the vicodin one) before posting it, you are probably right. But you really should try HB one of these days. It’s amazing how much comfort a little warmth can bring.

  • feelin’ snappy

    I’m taking some new meds and we’re watching carefully for allergic reactions–given that I’ve had some rather spectacular allergic reactions in the past few days. So after taking a new type of pill I called John in to tell him that it was making me kind of itchy especially under my left armpit.

    After I scratched there a bit (yah, I know I’m not supposed to scratch, but I do it anyways), I realized that there was a metal snap in my armpit.

    “Can you take a look at this?” I said, lifting up my arm (and do keep in mind that looking into the armpit of a woman who is unshaven and unshowered for the past week is not for the faint of heart).

    “Yep, it’s a snap,” John said as he peeled off the adhesive metal electrode that must’ve been left there after my surgery.

    John then took a peek into my right armpit.

    “There’s a USB port in that one, but I’m going to leave it there. Because you know that could come in handy later.”

  • going well

    Things are going so well, I will probably be going home soon! :)

    The other day when things were looking bleak, this song came on Pandora. It made me feel so strong.

  • quakin’

    Just survived an earthquake in the hospital. We’re on the 3rd floor and things really shook but stayed intact. John and Catgirl were close at hand–it was CG’s first real earthquake experience. What a memorable one that will be!

    I am feeling pretty good today. The wound is feeling better, the PICC line means no more IVs, and we are trying a new antibiotic because of my allergic reaction to the previous one. Everything is looking up!

    I do hope that all that were hit harder by the quake will be okay.

  • today

    today was 100% jampacked with drama==can’t detail it all but the highlights included surgery, a PICC line, and a plate of pancakes that waited all day for the moment around 7 pm that the docs cleared me for eating again.

    Every single part of my body is sore right now. As soon as the pain meds I just took kick in, I will be off to the land of happy sleep for many hours.

    :)

  • update (with some details)

    Because so many of you have asked for more details about what’s going on, this post will offer more info than I typically give on the blog.

    In a nutshell:
    The past few days has been a parade of docs trying to come up with a good treatment plan. Because of the nature of the problem, I have a team of orthopedic surgeons, an infectious disease team, a general surgery team, and a family medicine team working on case (translation: a nonstop flow of white-coated people at my bedside all disagreeing on what should be done next), In the meantime I’m being given some super-strong antibiotics to fight the infection.

    It looks as though I will be headed into surgery tomorrow morning–where they will open up and clean out the various pockets of infection and also remove any scar tissue that’s making it difficult for the wound to drain well. Tomorrow I will also have a bone scan to see better whether my bone is infected (the MRI showed some inconclusive results on this matter, so even though the docs are fairly sure my bone isn’t infected, they’d like to be completely sure because it will affect how many weeks (months?) I have to be on antibiotics).

    Our friend Kathy is coordinating meals and care for our kids. If you would like your email address to be added to the list for coordination, drop me a line in the comments here. I’m up for a few visitors, but we’re keeping it fairly selective given that I tire easily. If you’d like to visit, please chat with John first, to make sure that the timing is good. I’m answering my cellphone and room phone rather sporadically right now, depending on how I feel at the moment and how many docs are huddled around the bed. Please understand, too, that John is working hard to get back to everyone who’s contacting him, but yesterday he did so for nearly 3 hours and then was late to get to the hospital as a result. I know he wants to talk to each of you, but he also needs to have quality time with the kids when he’s home and he won’t have time to answer every query as he’s moving frequently between home and hospital.

    As for how I’m doing…
    I’ve been super-lucky that for the past 24 hours I’ve had a room to myself. I don’t expect this to last too much longer, given how busy the hospital is, but it’s allowed me to have a lot of peace and quiet. The sun shines in my window here each morning and I can hear the birds chirping in the trees. Friends have brought me some healthy fruits and veggies so I can get some relief from the Starchy McStarch hospital fare. I also have some scones and tea on hand for comfort and some very high quality dark chocolate, too. I have great docs who are all committed to keeping me here until I am truly well. If you want to focus your thoughts and prayers somewhere specific, please pray that they can contiunue to find good veins for my IV (an ongoing problem), that surgery will be successful in clearing out the affected tissue, and that something will come of the cultures to give the docs a better idea of what bugs are actually in my leg. And please, friends, don’t worry too much. I am in good hands here and the pain is only a fleeting thing.

    Love,
    Jana

  • lover


    Staged, but sincere, originally uploaded by mind on fire.

    John, arriving in time to give me a goodnite kiss.