Club Med-ication

Friday was an interesting day. I went to work as I normally do, but as the day progressed I noticed that my right thumb was swollen and there was a red blotchy thing at the center surrounding a small cut. I figured it was a splinter, since my stairway at home is wood and it's so cold that I could have picked one up and not felt it.

As the day wore on, it got redder and more swollen. Finally, around 10pm I figured that (a) my regular doctor doesn't have office hours until Monday (b) I don't know what this is, since it had dawned on me that it wasn't a splinter and (c) I have health insurance. So, at the encouragement of a friend, I gathered myself and walked into the Emergency Room - just like on the TV show.

It turned out to be a bacterial infection called Cellulitis, and they gave me an Intravenous antibiotic, but that wasn't enough. What I thought would be a routine ER visit (if there is such a thing) turned into a two-day hospital stay. They said it can't be treated on an out-patient basis, so I had to be admitted. I was ill-prepared (pun) for a hospital stay, since I hadn't packed anything and had nobody to feed the cat, but I suppose we're never prepared for a hospital stay.

I lingered there until noon Sunday, eating the 3 meals I was given - which were actually pretty good - and watching television that was more expensive than the cable I pay for at home.

Sadly, my cell phone battery was low, so I couldn't entertain myself (or others) with clever text messages and witty puns about Club Med.

I must have been asked a hundred times, "How did you do this?" and I wished I had a clever story or amusing anecdote. I would have preferred an antidote, but I had neither. I can only assume that the exposed cut on my hand came in contact with something infected and all Hell broke loose. It's one of the larger mysteries of my life.

I'm home now, after 5 bags of antibiotics with another set of pills to take. The hospital stay revolved around waiting for my 9am and 9pm IV feedings, watching expensive television and eating. A vacation without the pool, alcohol or ... fun.

The guy in the bed next to me had Pancreatitis, so I guess it could have been worse. I tried not to complain too much, because I didn't want to sound like a whiner, but it wasn't the weekend I had planned.

I'm back, but don't touch me - I'm infected.