Saturday, March 7, 2009

After a difficult night, I woke up this morning to an unexpected email from a friend.  She wrote, “Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail.  They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness (Lam. 3:22-23).”  At the very moment I read those words, my ever-whistling husband began whistling, "Great is thy Faithfulness" off in the kitchen.  It was another confirmation of what I have been trying to allow myself to fully believe--that God is in every detail.  He knows everything I need.  He will take care of me.  I do not need to worry.  God is good.

As my ankle pain begins to subside and my healing is moving along, more of "real" life is beginning to creep back into my life.  The cost of this injury and the realities of budget

 issues at our school has brought about new concerns that are hard for me to "let go and let God."  Somehow it is easier for me to give my ankle over to the Lord because it is obvious that I am powerless to do anything about it.  But when it comes to money--it feels like I should still have to bear some of the responsibility to take care of it.  I am working through this.  It has really gotten me down and I just can not slip downward.  I have too far to go.

So--today I got out of the house and went to Annika's soccer game.  I saw so many people from school and was greatly encouraged by many of the conversations that I had with them.  It was good to see sunlight, hear the joyful voices of children, and be hugged and kissed by friends.  Life really is good.

Love to you all--

Anne

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

I have news!  I went to see Dr. Carbonell today and found out that I am scheduled for surgery for next Friday (the 13th).  He is going to remove the metal plate that is still exposed on my bone, close up the wound with dermagraft, and then . . . (drumroll) . . . take off the external fixator!  

Following the surgery, he will fit me with a boot and start me on physical therapy for three times a week.  Also, even though the wound will be covered with skin, Dr. Carbonell would still like me to continue with the VAC therapy.  That means that I will still need to carry around my little machine all the time and be seen by my home health care nurse twice a week.  

In addition, by next Friday, I will have been on the antibiotics for eight weeks.  So . . . it just might be that my infectious disease doctor will have me stop taking the IV antibiotics (the ones that are still causing me such wacky side-effects).  

So many changes . . . can you stand it???

I had planned to host a chapel presentation at my school on March 17 (the Tuesday after my surgery) so I hope that I will still be up for it.  I have been so anxious to go back to my sweet students and talk to them about this entire experience.  I want to talk to them honestly about how difficult this process has been--but that it has been such a blessing, too.  Even though they may be as young as five years of age, many of them are experiencing tragedies far worse than my little ankle problem.  I want them to know that God has a plan for them--no matter how bad it may seem right now.  

So many of you have written me such amazing things.  I have heard from old friends from college and my childhood, Kindergarten students, people currently going through horrendous hardships, wonderful parents of my students, dear members of my church, my crazy brothers, and even people I have never met.  Each of you have reacted to tiny things I have said in my blog by sending me jokes, ridiculous videos, words that let me know that you "get it," inspirational verses, offers for rides and meals, and medical advice given to you by doctors or friends.  One of you even sent me a picture of a person's ankle after it had been mauled by a polar bear--sure proof that there is an ankle out there that is definitely worse than mine!  :)

I love each of you so much and appreciate that God is using you to bring me through this time.  

Thank you so much.

Anne

Saturday, February 28, 2009

OK, OK!  I won't do any more googling!!!  So many of you have written to tell me to get off the computer and take this whole thing day by day.  I now know that giving into the temptation of taking a sneak peek at the future really FREAKS ME OUT!  

Since being discharged from the hospital, the only reason I have left the house is to go see a doctor.  Well, last Thursday, I took my foot on a big field trip to our school.  I helped Annika and some classmates make chili for a chili cook-off, and Elise got to explain all of the medical gadgets attached to me to her class.  It was good to be at school again--and I was glad that I felt at peace being there.  I left feeling like--I know that I will one day return to teach, but I am in no shape for that right now.  All in good time.  

After two hours at school, I was totally exhausted and came home and slept and slept and slept. Every time I woke up, I thought about my students and colleagues who were happy to see me, my good friend who has done a fantastic job taking over my Art classes for me, the kind school parents who are bending over backwards to help us out, my dear girls who seemed relieved to see me out of the house and in my usual surroundings, and my precious husband who is managing to keep our family afloat with a smile.

Doug and I enjoyed some time together this weekend because the girls both had sleepovers on Friday night.  We managed to watch The Bucket List without falling asleep.  This was actually a really big deal because--prior to my fall--we had rented that movie three times without ever watching it before the due date!  

Then, on Saturday, we got really ambitious and went to the movie theater to see Slumdog Millionaire (my second field trip of the week!!).  Now, when I get in a wheelchair with my leg straight out and my foot propped up on 5 pillows--I am quite a sight.  I literally scared small children at the theater.  We laughed and laughed trying to fit me and my foot into the handicapped bathroom. It was good to be out doing something normal.

On a bummer note, my insurance is "officially" unwilling to pay for the dermagraft necessary to close up my wound.  I don't know what this means for me, but I am sure Dr. Carbonell will tell me what is next soon enough.

Thanks for all of your encouraging notes!  Much love to you all!

Anne

Thursday night, February 27, 2009

I just made the mistake of googling "ankle fusion."  Freaks me out.  There are a ton of people who have written about what it is like to recover from a bad ankle break.  All of a sudden it is dawning on me that I may be looking at a future of living in constant pain.  I don't want to be on pain meds for the rest of my life.  I am also realizing that when they talk about these future surgeries--we are talking about a long time of recovery.  I kind of had it in my head that I would just have to make it through this recovery . . . but not a few more!  And so many people write that the one surgery causes another problem that results in another surgery.  I want to get back to work and my life.   How long will this take?  What are we talking about here? I think that I just might be dealing with this for the rest of my life.  What in the world was I doing on that ladder?

I am just thinking about my friends, Joyce McKimson and Sharon Carper.  These are two amazing women in different stages of dealing with cancer.  They, too, will be dealing with their cancer for the rest of their lives.  And yet they are facing life with courage.  Taking life one day at a time.

Get over yourself, Anne.  Deal with it.  Everyone has their stuff that they have to deal with. Yours just happens to be your ankle.  You will make it.

Thanks for letting me vent.  

Anne

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Well, the people have spoken.  66% of you voted that you would enjoy seeing a current picture of my wound.  It looks good, huh???  Lucky for the 8% of you who voted that my wound pictures gross you out—this picture isn’t too bad compared to the first ones (feel free to scroll down to look at some of the earlier pictures if you don’t believe me!).  I still have that pesky little hole (see it below the wound?) where fluid drains out.  The hole should close up eventually.

When Dr. Carbonell saw my wound yesterday, he was more convinced than ever that I need to get the wound covered with dermagraft (a skin substitute made from human newborn foreskin).  Hopefully the insurance company will approve it soon.

It is interesting that the focus so far has been on keeping the infection at bay and taking care of my open wound.  We really have not talked at all about the bone itself.  When I mentioned it yesterday, Dr. Carbonell kind of smiled—like—we are not ready to go there yet.  The nurse even said that my body is producing the fluid in the ankle area (that is sucked out by the VAC) because it is trying to fill in the areas that would normally be filled with bone.  That one was new to me.  Made me think that I should go out to the front yard and look for those pieces of bone that got left behind. 

I can see that once the external fixator is taken off and x-rays are taken, a whole new chapter to this story is going to begin. 

I feel encouraged that I seem more human-like lately.  When I am not sleeping (I sleep about 15 hours a day), I feel like myself—a non-mobile version of myself—but still myself.  That is good.

My friend, Natalie, drove me to my appointments yesterday and managed to meet someone she knew at each office.  She even ran into a close relative at my wound care center.  My foot is bringing people together. Who knew?

Love to you all!

Anne (and my foot)

Monday, February 23, 2009

Hello!  My Mom has been taking care of me over the last few weeks—coming by to feed me lunch, drive me to appointments, take care of my kids, provide me with Gatorade when I look like I am about to pass out, and give me good ol’ motherly love. 

Well, she has left me.  Left to go to California and Chicago for two weeks. 

So, I am now spending my days alone.  All alone.  With no one to care for me. No one to pick me up off the bathroom floor when I have tripped over my VAC tube.  No one to spoonfeed my DanActive drink into my trembling lips.  No one to help me wrestle my underwear up over my external fixator. 

But I will make it.  I will.

And all kidding aside—I hated it today when I knew that I would not hear the sound of her coming through the door and calling out, “It’s me, Annie!”  There has been something so wonderful about needing my Mom again—like I did when I was little.  She is an amazing woman who has been so willing to drop everything for her daughter.  And although she may regret raising me to be the independent type of girl who would decide to climb up a tall ladder without help, she loves me—lame foot and all.

Enjoy your break, Mom. 

Love, Anne

P.S.  I got a handmade card in the mail today that said, “She had a great fall . . . and love came tumbling after.”  I am feeling the love from all of you.  Thank you so much.  --Anne 

Saturday, February 21, 2009

It was five weeks ago today that I fell from the ladder.  I don’t mean for it to feel like an anniversary or anything but I can see how the five-week mark is messing with my head today.  It seems like five weeks has been enough. 

Doesn’t it seem long enough?  Doesn’t it seem like I should have a little more energy, or need to sleep a little less, or be a little more “Anne”-like?  How is it that I am NOT going stir-crazy?  Everyone keeps saying, “Are you bored out of your mind?  Are you dying to get up and get going??” 

The simple (and surprising) answer is, “No.”  The basic act of getting up ten times in one day to go to the bathroom is about all the physical activity I can handle right now.  I get exhausted just having a two-minute conversation on the phone.  And yet there is a part of me that is feeling guilty that I am not ready to do more.  Don’t you always hear that the best thing someone can do is to get up and get going again? 

On Friday, I went to my Mom’s to take a shower, got my haircut, and had a very low-key visit (on our couch) with a dear friend of ours from Alaska. It didn’t seem like I had done anything major—I took two-hour naps in between each of those activities.  But I could tell that just taking the shower was about as much as I (or my ankle) could handle for that day. 

By the end of the day, my ankle felt weird and was very swollen.  Part of me felt very guilty that I had pushed my body too hard.  But the other part of me thought, “You have got to be kidding me!  I can’t even do that without my body freaking out??”  Yes—I guess that is the case.  My body is telling me that I still need to rest.  And I have a feeling that in another five weeks, I will still need a lot of rest.

So yea—It has been a long time. Elise told us that she sometimes wishes that she could get in a time machine and go back to the morning that I fell.  She says that she would go back to tell me NOT to get up on the ladder.  Annika says that she just wants all of it to just “go away.”

But it happened.  And for now we have to be thankful that we have each other, that my body is healing, that we are keeping infection at bay, that we are loved, that we are alive, and that we have a God that is looking out for us all the time (even when it seems a little slow).  Once again, I feel incredibly blessed that—although today is bugging me a bit—I am ready to allow myself the time to heal.  I do not feel like I am climbing the walls, I am not bored—God has allowed me to accept this as my reality and trust in His wisdom. 

God is in control, so I am just going to CHILL.

 

Friday, February 20, 2009

I . . . HAVE . . . SHOWERED!!!!!!!

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Well, folks—It may not be pretty, but I am going to get through it.  That’s all I have to say.

Dr. Jacobsen told me that we have run out of options for antibiotics so I have to stay on the one I am on now.  He wants me to take the Benadryl to try to control the itchy/swelling side effects, and take Advil to ease the fever and achiness.  We are all hoping that I can manage to just get through the next three weeks on it and then I will be “out of the woods.”  He is going to have my blood tested twice a week to make sure that my white blood cell count doesn’t go seriously low again.  If it does, he will have no choice than to take me off of it early.  That is a little scary--especially because the wound is wide open with exposed hardware right now. 

Because of this, Dr. Carbonell is really trying to get the insurance company to approve covering my wound with dermagraft.  He thinks this will work much better than if he were to cover the wound with my own skin.  From what I can tell, dermagraft is a “skin substitute” that stimulates your own skin cells to multiply and heal around the wound.  If I am taken off the antibiotic a little early—at least the wound is covered. 

On a more personal note—Elise was my night nurse last night.  She has been afraid to stay by me at night because she is afraid that she will kick me.  She never kicked me—just kept me nice and warm. 

Love to you all!!!

Anne

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Mom and I took my foot out for another field trip today to the Vascular and Spine Institute (we even used the handicapped sticker for the first time!). 

After waiting for a looonnnggg time in the waiting room (hence, the name), I was brought into an operating room to have a PICC line put in my arm. A PICC is a long, flexible tube that is put into a vein in your arm and threaded up into a large vein just above your heart (see the diagram). It can stay in your arm for up to a year and does not have to be changed.  

Right now I give myself antibiotics through the PICC line every 8 hours.  The antibiotic is placed in a pressurized ball that slowly releases the antibiotic over a half hour (the pictures show one that is full and one that is empty).  I don’t need a nurse to come and do it and I don’t need one of those IV stands that you typically think of when you hear about IVs.

Dr. Jacobson took me off my old antibiotic because it caused my white blood cell count to go really low.  Now, on the new antibiotic, I have been noticing that my hands will itch really badly and swell.  Today my lips even started swelling (very Angelina Jolie-ish).  I won’t be surprised if they pull me off of this antibiotic and put me on yet another one!  Have to keep going with the flow . . .

I am getting a little excited because I see that my countdown to my weekly shower is getting very close!!!

Love to you!

Anne

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Tuesday means that I wake up, eat, take antibiotics, sleep, eat, and then go to the Jackson Wound Center to see Dr. Carbonell.  I am telling you, when that man walks in the room, the clouds part, the sun starts shining, and everything starts making perfect sense. 

He loves the look of my wound and wants to do a skin graft on it soon.  He expects that my insurance company is going to fight it so he wants me to start working the phones tomorrow to get an approval moving along. 

He also thinks that he will be able to remove the external fixator in a month or two.  This will require an outpatient surgery for them to get the pins out.  I am telling you, at first I was not wild about my amazingly humongous piece of footwear but I have really worked it into my personal style.  I think I will miss stretching my underwear and pants beyond the limits of man-made fibers when it is gone.  Ha ha.

When he removes the fixator, he is also going to remove one of the plates that they screwed into my bones during the second surgery.  I didn’t really get it all at the time but now I understand.  You see, in order to reach the talus (the bone that I reeeeeaaaaalllllllyyy destroyed), he had to get around the fibula (look on the left side of the bone diagram).  So, he simply cut the fibula bone away, did his magical work on the talus, and then put the fibula back in place using a metal plate (see it on the x-ray?).  If my wound had just healed without getting infected, the plate would have stayed in there forever.  However, because it got so infected and they had to cut away all of the external skin, that plate has been exposed for the last month.  In the mean time, the fibula has actually healed and doesn’t need to be held together by the plate anymore so he is just going to remove it!  One less thing to set off the metal detectors.

Every day brings another baby step towards “normal.”  Today I felt strong enough to go and sit out on the driveway while the girls played with our dear neighbor boys, Kory and Nick.  My little nurses set up chairs for me, brought out plenty of food and Gatorade, and then carefully “walked” me to the driveway.  It was great. 

Annika so needs to be comforted sometimes with absolute knowns: No—I am not going back to the hospital.  Yes—I will walk again.  No—the wound is not going to get infected.  Yes—I will be able to go to your chili cook-off next Thursday.  However, she and I both know that I cannot promise any of these things.  So it was just nice to escape these sad unknowns and just feel “normal” for a bit. 

Love to all--Anne 

Friday-Monday, February 13-16, 2009

Long story short . . . time and detective work have revealed some new truths.  The PIC line was, in fact, NOT infected.  So, I no longer need to take the Cubicin antibiotic.  They are glad about all this because it means that there was no new bacteria introduced into my bloodstream.  I will go in on Wednesday to have a new PIC placed in my arm so I don't have to use these temporary IV lines.

I had a blood drawn today to see if my white blood cell count is higher.  Judging by the fact that my fever/body aches have decreased, I really think it will be much better this time around.  In the end, I think the change in antibiotics (from Zosyn to Primaxin) has made the difference.  Unless there are any major developments, I will continue to take the Primaxin for another couple months to keep the ankle site clear of infection.

Although I still have very frequent "crashes," where I suddenly get very weak, clammy, and faint--most agree that I just need to eat plenty of good food, get lots of rest, and have Gatorade or apple juice nearby for a quick boost.

I decided to include some pictures from our weekend together.

These show . . .

- Me all wrapped up to take my first shower in 11 days!!!

- Doug and Mom (my caretakers) reading my blog about how much I appreciate

 my caretakers!!! :)

- Me waiting for Doug to get the car outside Dr. Jacobsen's office.

- Elise and me opening up all of the wonderful "Get Well" cards that we have received from all 

of our wonderful friends and family!!!

- We tried to have a family movie night where Dad did not fall asleep during the first 3 minutes of the movie . . .  Not only did he fall asleep but so did the dog.

- Elise gave me a fantastic leg and foot massage while watching Arthur.

- Annika has been sleeping with me every night because she is a great nurse AND she doesn't wake up when I hobble (loudly) to the bathroom a million times throughout the night.  Elise wanted to try out being a night nurse, too, so she decided to sleep on the floor (she was worried that she might kick me in her sleep).

Wednesday and Thursday, February 11 & 12, 2009

OK—here’s my update.

I continue to have intense body aches, a mild fever, dizzy/fainting spells, and an overall feeling of being a wet dishrag (+pain).  One moment, I can look at food and think it looks pretty good, and the next moment the near mention of food can make me want to lose my lunch.  I have hardly even thought about my ankle for the last few days (and thank goodness—it has been doing very well!).

In an effort to figure out what is going on, Dr. Jacobsen (the infectious disease doctor) is running a lot of tests on my blood. 

On Wednesday, they just went ahead and assumed that the PIC line was infected (the actual results will come back late Friday) and removed it.  I now have a temporary IV line in my lower arm that needs to be changed every other day.  They put me on yet another antibiotic (Cubicin) to kill off the bacteria in my blood from the PIC line.  If it turns out that the PIC line was not infected, they will take me off of the Cubicin.

Some blood results came back today (Thursday) and showed that my white blood cell count is very low.  On the up side, my other levels are a little low but in the normal range.  They now think that the Zosyn (the antibiotic that I have been on since the first day of my fall) is the cause of the low white blood cell count, and the chills and fever.  Therefore, I go back to Dr. Jacobsen’s office tomorrow to get a new IV line, take more blood cultures, and get a whole new supply of antibiotics that will fight the type of infection that was in my foot (but hopefully NOT have the fatigue/fever side effects).

It was nice to have a day today where I did not have to go anywhere.  My Mom just keeps filling me up with food and Gatorade, and my Dad has been working on making my wheelchair “external fixator accessible.”  He also went to DMV and got me a handicapped parking sticker good until 2012!  I am thinking that when I finally get better, EVERYONE is going to want to take me along to ball games, Publix, and wherever else the parking is impossible!

The Blanco family surprised us with two frozen deep-dish pizzas—delivered straight from Chicago!!  The pizza was wonderful and the dry ice in the box provided lots of entertainment for Doug and the girls.  Our house continues to be filled with wonderful food that is keeping me going.  Thanks to so many of you who have been helping us out! 

Elise and Annika came home on a Valentine’s Day high—their arms filled with notes, flowers, candy, and love.  Just when I thought everything was great, Annika expressed sad disappointment that I wasn’t there today for her V-day party where she read an essay that she written about when Doug and I met.  What to do.

I want to leave you with one last thought:  You know how people always say that being a parent is thankless job??  Well, I found one even worse—being a caretaker.  My Mom, Dad, Doug, Sharon, and the girls were never really asked if they would be willing to drop everything to take care of me, but they did it because they had to.  And guess what . . . on average, the patient (that would be me) is quietly letting the caregiver know that they are doing a lousy job.  No kidding.  I try not to be ornery or needy or “short,” but between being extremely emotionally fragile, feeling totally lousy, and being unable to do a single thing for myself—I end up taking out my frustrations on the one person who is keeping me alive—my caretaker!!!  When I was in the bathroom at Dr. Jacobsen’s office, I was annoyed that my Mom kept knocking on the door to see if I was OK.  But guess what—I would have been annoyed if I had keeled over on the floor and she failed to check on me!  Doug is killing himself to find food that doesn’t make me crazy, and instead of saying thank you, I get all annoyed that he is putting food in my face that is making me feel sick.  It absolutely goes against all logic or “survival of the fittest” thinking that one would bite the hand that is feeding me.

So . . . Mom, Doug, Dad, Sharon, Annika, and Elise—

I am in awe of the fact that you have served, served, and served—without expecting anything in return.  I am so deeply sorry for the times that I let my neediness overwhelm me and I treat you with an attitude anything less than “extremely grateful.”  In the end, I will be healed, and it will be because God gave you to me as His angels to set your own wants and needs aside and simply serve a very flawed and annoying patient.  I love you so much, Anne/Mom

Wednesday morning, February 11, 2009

Today is one of those mornings where the sight of the sun signals an end to the struggles of the night, and provides hope that the light of day will bring about some healing and peace.

Yesterday was pretty rough.  Although I woke up feeling “with it,” I had a series of near-fainting spells throughout the day.  Luckily, my home healthcare nurse had just stressed the importance of attaching my cell phone to my walker so that I could call for help at any time.  So when I felt myself slipping away yesterday morning in the bathroom, I was able to call my mom and she came within 2 minutes to help me.

I had my first appointment at the Jackson South Wound Care Clinic yesterday afternoon to meet with Dr. Carbonell.  Mom pumped me up with enough food and Gatorade to summon enough energy to get into the car and handle the drive to the clinic.  Sure enough, even though we had a mapquest map and directions from the clinic, we (of course) could not find the place.  When we finally did, we were 10 minutes late.  Mom parked illegally and went inside to find a wheelchair.  She immerged with a wheelchair so wide that she had to partially fold it to get it out the door of the building to the car.  You can only imagine, then, how easy it was to get me back inside when sitting in it!  Sitting in this huge wheelchair while holding a VAC, antibiotic drip, my walker, purse, med bag, etc. while keeping my leg up (on my own strength since no wheelchair is designed to accommodate an external fixator)—and then trying to figure out how to get through the narrow door . . . Mom and I decided we had better laugh before we started crying.

Mom and I ended up sitting in a small waiting room for an hour with at least ten of Dr. Carbonell’s patients.  Some were wearing VACS, some wore interesting orthopedic shoes, some had taken the bus from across town just to get some meds, and some were recovering from recent skin grafts, while others were there to get a dressing change.  Most were diabetic and spoke of the ridiculous years of running from this specialist to that specialist—trying to find a doctor who could actually care for their needs.  All of them spoke of Dr. Carbonell as if he was a miracle worker.

Long story short, Dr. Carbonell was thrilled at the sight of my wound.  It really looks great.  He asked his assistant to begin work of getting approval for a skin graft, and signed paperwork to enable me to get a handicapped sticker for whoever is driving me around. 

He and Dr. Jacobsen (my infectious disease doctor) suspect that my night fever is a sign that my PIC line is infected.  They also think that my fainting spells are a sign that my blood levels are off.

Sweet Dr. Jacobsen gave me his personal cell phone number so that I could call him if I got another fever (last night).  Sure enough, by 11:00 last night, I had chills, deep body aches, and a 100.6 fever.  Dr. Jacobsen told me to plan on going in to his office today, getting blood work done, getting the PIC line removed, and using some more antibiotics to kill the bacteria in the blood.

Annika is so worried that I will end up in the hospital again.  She is trying so hard to “go with the flow,” but I really think that she just needs s a few day of “normal.”  Bless her heart.  It just seems like every day has yet another issue that we are dealing with.  I think this is what Dr. Jacobsen is talking about when he says that the next few months will be a “long haul.”

Overall—I almost feel embarrassed that I am so blessed.  Dr. Carbonell arranged that I would be his first patient next week at the wound care center so that I won’t have to wait in the lobby.  Dr. Jacobsen is encouraging me to use his personal cell phone number if I have any weird symptoms.  Unlike the patients I met yesterday, God placed the most talented doctors in my life the FIRST time around—not after several failed experiences with other doctors.  In light of these blessings, the least I can do is joyfully “go with the flow” and patiently suffer through the pain and struggles of getting “better.”

Thanks to Penny Lyn for the awesome exercise mat, my Mom for putting in some long hours, and to all of you who have been filling my house with fruit, meals, cookies, brownies, sweet and encouraging things for the girls, and healthy meals for my family!  You are all a blessing.

Love to you all—

Anne