A few days ago I wrote about my battle with a chronic eye
disease. Those who struggle with chronic disease know that one of the
challenges is that just when you think you have a handle on it and can predict
its course it changes direction and throws something new at you, just to keep
it interesting I suppose. I thought I knew all the twists and turns of this disease, but
my complacency was about to be tested.
After a week on my eye medication, which can only be used
for 14 days due its toxicity and potential for damage, my eyelid began to swell.
This wasn’t a new reaction and my optometrist and I felt it was likely just a
reaction to the medication as had happened before when you use a powerful drug
with powerful side effects. The trouble was that I needed to continue the
medication for another week – and the more serious trouble was that the
swelling continued to worsen.
By Saturday my eyelids were dramatically swollen, and the
area was numb. Still convinced it was a reaction to the medication I ignored it
until Sunday morning, when I finally headed for the ER to see about stopping
the topical antiviral medication and switch to an oral instead so that
hopefully the reaction would diminish. The ER doc immediately switched my medication,
but he also admonished that if the swelling did not go down or got worse that I
was to return to the ER.
It didn’t get better, and in fact it got significantly
worse. By the end of that day I felt terribly ill, the swelling had moved from
my eyelids spreading up towards my hairline and down to my jawline, the lymph
nodes on that side were enlarged and although I tried to deny it I knew
somewhere inside me that I had a problem. A friend called and hearing me
describe my symptoms and my misgivings about the direction of my progress
insisted I go back to the ER.
Less than an hour later I was in an examining room. The ER
doctor took one look at my face and said: “Well, that’s worrisome.”
Now, ER doctors see a lot of things, and I don’t know about
you but when they look at me and say something is “worrisome” I tend to think
things are, in fact, worrisome. Less than 10 minutes later I had been hooked up
to IV antibiotics and fluids (the doc had also correctly surmised I was
dehydrated) and so began my adventure with our medical system in Fort McMurray.
I suppose what I want to share is how amazing the people who
work in our ER at the Northern Lights Regional Health Centre are. From the
nurse who placed my first IV, who recognized my anxiety and who talked me
through it, to all the subsequent nurses, they were, in a word, incredible.
From the admitting clerks to the doctors there was a sense of confident
professionalism about them, and I trusted them implicitly to take good care of
me, and they did.
There was the moment my first IV failed and I had to have a
second one placed, which years ago would not have troubled me but for some
reason in recent years I have developed a phobia of needles. When the nurse
informed me a new IV was needed I felt faint and had to ask for a moment to
prepare mentally – and then when I was ready she proceeded to place the least
painful IV I have ever had, almost imperceptible, and her gentle kindness was
truly remarkable.
There was the moment I showed the final ER doc the photo I
had taken on the first evening to show him my improvement and his pleasure that
I had thought to document the progress through each treatment so every new doc
could see the direction the infection was taking.
There was the admitting clerk who saw me the first evening
and expressed concern and then saw me again 36 hours later and expressed
delight with the improvement I was showing.
It was more than that, though. It was the way they dealt
with every person in the ER, gently and kindly and professionally no matter how
challenging that person was or the severity of their problems. It was the speed
with which they moved, addressing each new issue and patient as quickly as they
could.
In the space of 48 hours I visited the local ER 5 times, and
each time I was more and more impressed with them and more and more grateful
for their kindness, their expertise and their professionalism.
I am sparing you the photos I took as even close friends
have found them a bit awful to look at. Google “preseptal cellulitis” if you
wish to see some horrific pictures and know that I was a textbook case of the
disease. Just four IV treatments managed
to get me back to almost normal, and onto a course of oral antibiotics to
ensure the infection does not return. My near miraculous-recovery has reminded
me that perhaps the most significant medical advances in the entire course of
humanity are likely the development of vaccines and the discovery of antibiotics,
as in the days pre-antibiotics an infection like mine would have raged until
one of the combatants finally gave in – either the microbes or my body. But
what my recovery has truly reminded me of is how fortunate we are in this
country, province and community to have access to top-level world-class health
care that means that instead of losing our lives we only lose a couple of days
of our life.
I am so deeply grateful to the staff, nurses and doctors at
the Northern Lights Regional Health Centre. I want to thank them, very
publicly, for taking such good care of me and for their kindness along the way.
I also want to suggest to my readers that if you ever find yourself with facial
swelling to not ignore it or dismiss it as I am now a walking Public Service
Advisory on the perils of cellulitis (and I got off easy, as it can be far
worse as I have subsequently learned). I’m also very grateful to all the
friends who offered assistance, kept tabs on me and sent their good wishes as I
worked on healing.
Today is a new day. I am headed back to work, my face is no
longer swollen and it appears my eye disease has gone quiet once more. Cherish
every single day, folks. All it takes is a brush with serious illness to remind
you of how very lucky you are.
And frankly, I am the luckiest woman in the world today.
This sounds terrible. We have had nothing but wonderful people treat us in our ER. They don't always diagnose well there (hence my poison ivy issues), but they are good people. Take care.
ReplyDeleteThanks for writing this, Theresa! So glad you are feeling better.
ReplyDelete