I am so witty online!
For those of you who don't know, my husband Mark had heart bypass surgery a little over a year ago and they use wire similar to piano strings to hold the chest plate together for healing. Well, Mark broke one of them, possibly by sneezing hard, it got infected and he needed to have it removed.
And now....
My husband is in the hospital with a staph infection requiring IV antibiotics after he tried to get himself treated before it got to this point.
I am angry, frustrated, bummed and completely OFF. I just wrote last week in a post about my priorities how when something is not OK with one of the four of us, everything feels off, and here we are.
I know I remind the world all the time of Mark's health conditions, but it seems to be necessary, even to the medical professionals who care for him. He is a Type 1 Diabetic, has been since the age of 9, with a 6 year reprieve when he had a successful kidney/pancreas transplant. He is 43 now and since losing his transplanted organs, has been back on insulin and dialysis for nearly 10 years.
These things make him extra susceptible to infection. Last year when heart bypass was required it was discovered that he had pericarditis, a septic staph infection SURROUNDING HIS HEART.
People? Mark may have survived that, but this is not a man we take chances with!
So yeah, I and just about everyone we know are pretty frustrated that Mark's doctors dragged their feet on this. That might be a bit of an understatement for me. Because a staph infection could KILL MY HUSBAND!
I don't think this is just me being melodramatic. Or maybe it is....buuuuuttt it happened to my uncle. It happens all the time. It could happen to Mark.
On the other hand, I do think PTSD from "the night from hell" is rearing its ugly head right now. I am having to force myself to see this as a separate thing. I am having to force myself to not think about death.
And it's really hard to do.
This infection was caught early, in spite of the initial bumbling efforts of the doctors. This will be OK. Mark will be OK. EVERYTHING WILL BE OK.
This is just another hiccup, bump in the road, minor inconvenience...yada, yada. I feel like people think I should just be used to this. That these things happen with Mark and we just have to deal them. Well yes, that's true, but "these things" are actually serious, and they suck.
I'm allowed to hate it, aren't I?
I'm allowed to hate taking my kids to see their dad at the hospital. I'm allowed to hate all that Mark has to deal with. I'm allowed to hate what I have to deal with, what our parents deal with, and our friends deal with. That there are perfectly healthy people out there who have no flipping idea how good they've got it! I hate it all.
When you've been traumatized the way I have it can be hard to be OK with the little hiccups. They tend to all feel like big, scary things.
It's almost Christmas. Mark had his first heart attack on Christmas Day of 2008. Such lovely timing.
I'm sorry if this post is rambling and doesn't totally make sense to anyone else. Just gotta get it off my chest.
We're hoping he will be able to come home today and we can get on with Christmas....
(This post was linked with Shell's Pour Your Heart Out at Things I Can't Say.)
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