Wow. The last week hasn't been anything I want to repeat.....ever......again. My foot had been healing up oh so very nicely over the past week. I woke up Friday and it hurt a little more than usual but I popped a few pills and off to work I went. It remained a little more tender than usual throughout the day but nothing that wasn't tolerable. By the time 11 pm on Friday night came around, the pain was unbearable. I took a few of the most powerful pain pills I'd been prescribed and felt that a phone call to my dad was needed. I knew he would be asleep and I hate waking him up. We decided that I'd call the center the next day and try to find a doc on call. I woke up about 5 am in pain again and took a few more pills. I went back to sleep until mid morning when I called the doctor. My foot could not tolerate any weight and was incredibly swollen at this point. The doc was concerned about any redness (which there wasn't any at the time) and thought that between the two ideas of infection or overuse, overuse was the more likely cause. Turns out that my parents were already on the way to my house in a round about way of getting to David's for the boy's birthday party and to see first hand what was going on with my foot. By the time they got to my house, my foot was bright red and swollen to perhaps twice it's normal size. He called back the center and got a recommendation for an antibiotic to combat the infection. I spent the entire day on the couch with my foot propped up and a heating pad wrapped around it. Sunday came around and it was another entire day spent on the couch and the feelings of frustration, worry, and anxiety started flooding in. I knew that the amount of pain, the intense swelling, and redness were not good signs at all and I also know enough to know that an infection in an extremity could lead to undesirable results. And I was frustrated to be set back in my recovery after spending the last two weeks feeling really good, walking better, and optimistic about getting back to normalcy. By the time Sunday night came around, I couldn't sleep. Satan was attacking me left and right with all the "what ifs?", and worry and fear and frustration. I kept telling him to get away from me, far away from me, and finally fell asleep listening to worship music around 2 am. Also, getting comfortable was also an issue. Monday morning arrives and I promptly called the center and anxiously waited for a call back. Amie stopped by and tears flowed as frustration poured out. My foot has swelled up so much that my incision had split open again and was bleeding and draining. (Turns out that would be a good thing.) I spent all morning waiting for a call back only to find out that they don't even come into the office till 12:30 pm. I would say that the pain level was down a bit by Monday but I still wanted, oh so badly, to see the doctor, have him examine it and tell me that it would be okay. He couldn't see me in time Monday (which created more anxiety as I'd have to wait one more night) so I would go see him Tuesday morning. I was both relieved and anxious to have the appointment. It was taking the antibiotics a bit to kick in and start battling against the infection. My parents came and picked me up and I spent the night there so that I'd be closer the next morning. It's hard for me to let others take care of me and maybe even more so to let my parents do so. I've been on my own for a while now and I'm getting used to helping them out, taking care of them. Anyways, I go to the Anderson clinic the next morning and Dr. Herbst checks it out. Thankfully, it was caught early and treated with antibiotics right away before it became an abscess. While an infection rarely happens in someone as young and healthy as I am, it does happen randomly and it's just a speed bump on the road to recovery. It's put me back about a week but I should recover fully. It's hard after feeling so good for a week to then get beat back down, discouraged, and frustrated. I just want to feel better now and it's so hard to be patient. It still hurts, I'm still taking lots of pills, and it's still a bit swollen and red. I've wondered a few times if the initial surgery was worth it and I tell myself yes....because the surgery was supposed to replicate the results of the first shot and if it does that, I'll be elated. Trying to stay off of it, keeping up on taking all the pills, and being patient-that's the key to recovery. With the warmer weather, the "itch" to be out and about is great and it's depressing to be on the sidelines. At first, I asked God the reason why and now I'm asking what am I supposed to learn.
If you could....Pray for continued healing. Pray for patience. Pray for a full recovery. Thanks.
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