Two Door and Silverbears brother both said that every good story in the military begins with "You won't believe this sh*t." This is the civilian version so I started it a bit differently.
First, I'd like to thank everyone for the kind words in the thread that Silverbear started and to thank Silverbear for starting it. It meant a lot to get home this afternoon and read them.
Now what happened? It started a month ago this coming Sunday just after talking to my son in New Hampshire. The odd part is the last thing we talked about was how he welded up a license plate holder for his 80 year old neighbour on his new to him motorcycle. He had to buy it because a Staph infection showed up in his replaced hip and now it was to hard to reach the rear brake and shifter on his old bike.
I said goodbye and walked about 15' into the kitchen and every step was more painful than the last until I couldn't put any weight on it. It felt like someone had hit both sides of my knee at the same time with a 2 pound hammer and then attacked it with ice picks.
Now the smart thing to do would have been to call the ambulance and head to the hospital but in true Fasteddy fashion I headed to bed, sure that it will pass. A good time to note that Fasteddy isn't always too swift. Twenty four hours later my brother's banging on the door asking what's wrong so I showed him my lower leg which is now about 50% larger than normal and my foot looks like the Good Year blimp with toes so it's one painful hobble and a bum scoot down the stair and hobble into the den to wait.
The hospital dumped some antibiotics into me and said come back tomorrow morning and we'll do it again. Ya, right.
Now the plot thickens. Tuesday morning comes around and I'm on the pull out sofa in the den and I can't move with the pain so it's call the ambulance again and three young ladies show up and drag me off to the hospital. I don't know how they got me into into it since none of them were more than 120 pounds and I was going to offer to get off but they did it.
This trip I'm lying there for a while in emergency and a doctor starts looking at it a lot closer than the first one did. Lots of going back and forth and looking and asking questions and then he tells me he is talking to an orthopedic surgeon and he is going to have to take a sample of the knee fluid.
Now I have absolutely no trouble telling you that I'm wildly needle phobic and I know just how that sample is coming out and with what. Sure enough here come the good Dr. Bunting with a tray and a nurse with a handful of sample vials.
Now it could be the angle that I was viewing all this or the panic attack that I was suffering but the needle that he was using to freeze my knee looked like 2' of drain pipe with a 10" rain gutter spike sticking out of the end and in and out it went.
Back into the tray it goes having done it's foul deed and then the doctor reaches into the tray and pull out a needle that very closely two oil barrels tied to a drive shaft out of a 1951 Ford and I have no place to run. In it goes and hits the metal in my replaced knee. After 4 tries he grabs the first needle and freezes the bottom of my knee and drives the sample needle home. Success.
Now he starts to pull back on the plunger and I can see what's coming out and it most certainly is not a clear or pinkish fluid. Just think Staph infection and let your mind go wild and you will have an idea what it looked like. I'm now toast.
The surgeon stops by and gives me the low down. They cut the knee open like it's a replacement surgery and flush it out, sterilize it and replace the nylon block that replaces the cartilage and stitch it up and start a vigorous antibiotic treatment.
Pretty close to a month later and here I am at the key board once again, in a wheel chair with a bag about the size of a fanny pack slung over my shoulder that contains a large bag of antibiotics and a pump that is powered by a 9V battery. There is a quiet whirr-whirr every few seconds to remind me it's there.
The pump is hooked up to what is called a P.I.C.C. Line. It starts under my upper arm and follows a blood vessel across my chest and into my heart where it places the antibiotic into the clamber where the blood pumps so it gets mixed instantly and sent on it's way. Nope, other than a poke to freeze the entry area I didn't feel a thing and it's not uncomfortable once your used to it. The 4' of hose is a bit of a pain and you soon learn to deal with that as well.
Then there is the question as to how all this started. A simple rash, well scratched and a common bacteria found on every ones skin got into my blood stream. It happens when you scratch or cut yourself but once it's in your blood stream it can't attach itself and it dies. That is unless you have an artificial joint and then it hooks onto the metal and nylon and most importantly with the gaps around the joint it has room to grow.
It was caught very early so just how long it will take is in the wind at the moment. The pump is only going until November 27 and I also take 4 antibiotic capsules a day for the same time. Then I guess they will see if it is gone.
If they don't beat it, it's go in again and replace the whole knee joint once more. The underside of the metal parts of the knee joint look like the moons surface so the leg bone can get a firm grip as it grows back in to hold it in place. I hate to think of how much damage there will be when they tear the metal off the bone to replace it.
Steve.
First, I'd like to thank everyone for the kind words in the thread that Silverbear started and to thank Silverbear for starting it. It meant a lot to get home this afternoon and read them.
Now what happened? It started a month ago this coming Sunday just after talking to my son in New Hampshire. The odd part is the last thing we talked about was how he welded up a license plate holder for his 80 year old neighbour on his new to him motorcycle. He had to buy it because a Staph infection showed up in his replaced hip and now it was to hard to reach the rear brake and shifter on his old bike.
I said goodbye and walked about 15' into the kitchen and every step was more painful than the last until I couldn't put any weight on it. It felt like someone had hit both sides of my knee at the same time with a 2 pound hammer and then attacked it with ice picks.
Now the smart thing to do would have been to call the ambulance and head to the hospital but in true Fasteddy fashion I headed to bed, sure that it will pass. A good time to note that Fasteddy isn't always too swift. Twenty four hours later my brother's banging on the door asking what's wrong so I showed him my lower leg which is now about 50% larger than normal and my foot looks like the Good Year blimp with toes so it's one painful hobble and a bum scoot down the stair and hobble into the den to wait.
The hospital dumped some antibiotics into me and said come back tomorrow morning and we'll do it again. Ya, right.
Now the plot thickens. Tuesday morning comes around and I'm on the pull out sofa in the den and I can't move with the pain so it's call the ambulance again and three young ladies show up and drag me off to the hospital. I don't know how they got me into into it since none of them were more than 120 pounds and I was going to offer to get off but they did it.
This trip I'm lying there for a while in emergency and a doctor starts looking at it a lot closer than the first one did. Lots of going back and forth and looking and asking questions and then he tells me he is talking to an orthopedic surgeon and he is going to have to take a sample of the knee fluid.
Now I have absolutely no trouble telling you that I'm wildly needle phobic and I know just how that sample is coming out and with what. Sure enough here come the good Dr. Bunting with a tray and a nurse with a handful of sample vials.
Now it could be the angle that I was viewing all this or the panic attack that I was suffering but the needle that he was using to freeze my knee looked like 2' of drain pipe with a 10" rain gutter spike sticking out of the end and in and out it went.
Back into the tray it goes having done it's foul deed and then the doctor reaches into the tray and pull out a needle that very closely two oil barrels tied to a drive shaft out of a 1951 Ford and I have no place to run. In it goes and hits the metal in my replaced knee. After 4 tries he grabs the first needle and freezes the bottom of my knee and drives the sample needle home. Success.
Now he starts to pull back on the plunger and I can see what's coming out and it most certainly is not a clear or pinkish fluid. Just think Staph infection and let your mind go wild and you will have an idea what it looked like. I'm now toast.
The surgeon stops by and gives me the low down. They cut the knee open like it's a replacement surgery and flush it out, sterilize it and replace the nylon block that replaces the cartilage and stitch it up and start a vigorous antibiotic treatment.
Pretty close to a month later and here I am at the key board once again, in a wheel chair with a bag about the size of a fanny pack slung over my shoulder that contains a large bag of antibiotics and a pump that is powered by a 9V battery. There is a quiet whirr-whirr every few seconds to remind me it's there.
The pump is hooked up to what is called a P.I.C.C. Line. It starts under my upper arm and follows a blood vessel across my chest and into my heart where it places the antibiotic into the clamber where the blood pumps so it gets mixed instantly and sent on it's way. Nope, other than a poke to freeze the entry area I didn't feel a thing and it's not uncomfortable once your used to it. The 4' of hose is a bit of a pain and you soon learn to deal with that as well.
Then there is the question as to how all this started. A simple rash, well scratched and a common bacteria found on every ones skin got into my blood stream. It happens when you scratch or cut yourself but once it's in your blood stream it can't attach itself and it dies. That is unless you have an artificial joint and then it hooks onto the metal and nylon and most importantly with the gaps around the joint it has room to grow.
It was caught very early so just how long it will take is in the wind at the moment. The pump is only going until November 27 and I also take 4 antibiotic capsules a day for the same time. Then I guess they will see if it is gone.
If they don't beat it, it's go in again and replace the whole knee joint once more. The underside of the metal parts of the knee joint look like the moons surface so the leg bone can get a firm grip as it grows back in to hold it in place. I hate to think of how much damage there will be when they tear the metal off the bone to replace it.
Steve.
