The Slimy Demise of Me.

Disclaimer: This post contains medical disgust. For all three of you who like such things, feel free to keep reading.  The rest of you: be warned and run far, far away.

Disclaimer 2: There are always a few of you who say you felt guilty laughing at my expense.  If I wasn’t okay with you laughing at me, I wouldn’t write it.  I hereby excuse you to laugh guilt-free at all of my blogged-misfortunes here forth.

I am living the dream.

Or at least the Junior High Boy’s dream.

In the past three weeks, I have completely grossed out a doctor, a dentist, and countless nurses with my medical conditions.

I mean really, how often is it that you get to hear a doctor say, “Oh, THAT is really gross!” before they have a chance to stop themselves?

It all started three weeks ago, when I was still in the hospital, and began to have complications after Noah’s birth.

(I know – I said I wasn’t going to blog about them, but that’s just because I didn’t want the horrific disgustingness to take away from Noah’s birth story.  But you couldn’t expect me to pass up an opportunity to blog about something disgusting all together, could you??)

It was Tuesday afternoon, and Chris had to leave the hospital for a bit, so my lucky friend Amanda (Happy Birthday, by the way!!) was “babysitting” me.

I’d started having horrible abdominal pain earlier that day, but assumed it was related to them CUTTING ME OPEN two days ago, so didn’t think too much about it.

Until I stood up.  And all of a sudden, a gushing waterfall of fluids poured out of my incision.  And kept pouring.  And kept pouring.

I screamed for Amanda to call the nurses.

The pouring continued.

After what felt like long enough for all of my internal fluid to pour out, a nurse came in, and before she looked, said, “It’s normal to have a little bit of leakage from your incision.”

Then she looked…

“OH.  That’s really disgusting.  I’ll call your doctor.”

More pouring…

A bit later, my doctor comes in, takes a look, wrinkles his nose, and then gets up and starts looking around the room.

“What are you looking for?”

“Gloves!!!”

At this point, I remember apologizing profusely for my absolutely stunning level of grossness.

Turns out, it was a Seroma – a pocket of fluid (or in my case, a water tower of fluid) that can develop behind an incision.

He drained and drained and drained it some more, and then told me that if it didn’t drain out, he’d have to re-open the incision and <shudder> pack it, after which I would have to <gag> re-pack it for several days at home.

Thank goodness it healed.  There are few things in life that make me sick, but wound packing is one of them.

So. Three weeks later.

As I mentioned, I’ve had this wonderful tooth fun, which has turned into a party for my whole face.  The right half of my face got so swollen that it was actually drooping from the weight, making me look rather like this guy:

BassetHound

 

And so, after enduring 72 hours of saggy-cheeked-intense-toothache-fun, I finally was able to brave the icy roads (or my chauffer, my Father, was), and get to an Endodontist yesterday.

I sat down in his chair, completely prepared (and actually anticipating) him going drill-crazy in my mouth.

He pulled out his mirror and took a look around.

“OH WOW.  It’s REALLY gnarly back in there!!!”

“I know – I haven’t been able to brush my teeth all weekend.”

“No – I mean it’s disgusting!! You have two HUGE pus pockets on your gums, and I can actually SEE the green pus through your SKIN!!”

And then he went on to explain to me that my infection was so intense that there was no way that he could redo my root canal, because the blah-blah-dentist-speak alkaline of the infection would blah-blah interfere with the novocaine…

“So basically it’d hurt like heck?”

“Yes.”

“But I assure you: it already is!!”

“It’d hurt worse.  BUT I am going to need to cut open those pus pockets today and drain them.”

Lovely.

“But don’t worry! We’ll pack your mouth with gauze – because green pus doesn’t taste so good.”

Yum.

“And it’s the infection that’s hurting you, so this should alleviate your pain.”

Promise?

“Yes. You’ll just need to keep pushing on your pus pockets all day and changing out your gauze packing every half hour to help all of it to come out.”

Excellent.

“And then in a week, when all of the infection is gone, we’ll redo the root canal.”

Can’t wait!

And so, my day yesterday was filled with green-pus-pushing.  Although I still look like half a Basset Hound, I am definitely feeling better….besides the taste of the green pus.  He wasn’t lying about that.

Living the dream, alright.