Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Foreskin Face Jess :-)

funny nonsense
When really crazy stuff happens it is easy to get all “why me” sad and depressed. This is unacceptable. We must laugh at things that don’t make sense. Things that don’t make sense are funny. I could have needed skin re-grown from Jewish baby penis foreskin. I could have been foreskin face Jess.

On Halloween I was still on bed rest. There are a LOT of good scary shows on TV that night. Night of the living dead, all of the Nightmare on Elm Streets, and zombie movies galore were on. Real Life via the Discovery channel had them all beat hands down. Tarantulas in HD hooked me initially. They Sneak into banana boxes and head for your town.

 Scarier was on Discovery Health, “Sex Robot” 2010. I will quote one sex-bot builder, “By the way this is the man cave where all prototypin’ begins. Are you intimidated? Intrigued?” It gets scarier with the erotic hypnosis. A man takes his girlfriend to the hypnotist. She is then “hypnotized” into a robot that has a pleasure battery that must be charged. She then charges her pleasure battery by taking orders from her man. I didn’t know what to think about Sex Robot but I know I was petrified.

Then the Discovery Health Halloween finale blew my friggin’ mind. Guts and brains should have exploded out of my eye sockets- I laughed that hard. Medical Incredible is a generally awesome show but no joke; this one was “antibiotic aftershock” about SJS/TENs. Sarah is the only person with it to ever survive a 100% sloughing (of the skin). She even lost the cornea of the eyes! The doctors had to make skin graphs from neo-natal foreskin stem cells. She literally has skin like a baby’s bottom now. Sarah will also never get wrinkles because her skin is 30 years younger than she is.  I found this to be a completely awesome and totally soothing story!

Today I was telling my tale and laughed out loud and thanked God that I made a full recovery without baby foreskin grafts. I’m lucky and grateful.

Thank you for all your prayers and visits and love and flowers.   I’m doing much better and this is my last blog. Hopefully I will see you soon and we can laugh about it :)

Antibiotics: USE SPARINGLY

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Sounds kind of like zombie…


 
Halloween is coming.  It is an exceptionally convenient time to be afflicted with a condition that includes toxic, necro and skin in the description.  Toxic Epidermal Necrolysis is the entire title. You can’t tell me that don’t sound an awful lot like z-o-m-b-i-e. I look like I’ve been eating brains :)

I couldn’t have asked for a better time slot to become visibly necro. As my lips grow back they ooze primordial skin cell soup and blood. As all the blisters heal, skin is literally sloughing off of my face and body exposing bloody splotches and pits.

 Among my prescriptions are flourescein sodium eye drops. The drops are this sickly, nuclear-neon yellow substance that instantly transform my eyes into awesome ocular fright machines. My eyes look like they could very well shoot lasers.

The pain meds and steroids amalgamate powers to create a frenzied-trance and detached-daze.  My mouth is always agape and often there is drool and blood because of the numbing mouthwash.

Today I watched Zombieland and 28 days later.  Zombie movies offer an entirely new experience when you bear such a striking resemblance to the undead.  I felt a camaraderie with and compassion for the zombie folk.

I’m in a prime position if this is the year we finally confront an authentic zombie outbreak.  I could act as a diplomat, a liaison for the human community. Or I could fool them into thinking I was one of their own. Zombies don’t have the ability to reason or assemble but I do believe they can be herded. I could be the zombie Moses shepherd and maybe save some humans.            

I’m hesitant to display my illness as a costume. What if some hardcore Halloween enthusiasts see it as the beginning of extreme costume making? Intentionally afflicting themselves with frightening illness and actual wounds for the best costumes…”What are you gonna be this year?”
 “Dunno, I was deciding between parasitic and highly contagious. You?”
“I’m thinking allergic reaction meets smallpox.”
“Nice dude! Way scary.”



Sunday, October 24, 2010

The Continuity of Incontinence

Throughout the human experience there exists a small number of universal truths shared by the entire species. These common truths transcend race, gender, religion, politics, and age. These truths offer us a rare glimpse of a simpler, more primitive connection we all share but evermore rarely encounter. The fundamental nature at the core of these extraordinary truths is absolute humility.
The ability to humble and be humbled is a human quality we share with no other species. Unfortunately humility has become scarce and inconsequential in a modern world. Our lives are congested with material acquisition and an obsession with the outwardly projection of one’s self worth. Regrettably humility is not pursued and in many cases has been replaced by it’s opposite, a desire to accumulate and project greatness weather that greatness be real or imagined. With each passing instance we unwittingly contribute to the great de-humbling of the human being.
Humility allows for a peaceful civilization and a productive co-existence based on mutual respect. Fortunately for humanity and modern humans the ability to connect to raw humility is not forever lost or as distant as we might desire it to be.  I recently had the opportunity to feel this basic human connection that is so vital for our species to thrive.  Pure humility is as close as your next public bowel movement and/or urination event.
 My plumbing had been backed up since last Monday. I was administered 3 stool softener pills over 12 hours with nothing to show for my efforts. My buffet of prescriptions was giving me unbearable heartburn so the staff was topping me off with milk of magnesia after every dose of painkillers (every 2-4 hours). In addition the inside of my mouth is being medicated with a Lidocaine rinse that is swallowed to numb the mouth and throat. My nurses were also applying a Lidocaine ointment to my blistery nether regions. The process leaves me quite numb on most fronts.

First came the golden showers. I felt the urge to pee and began the process of untangling my IV drip cords and readying the IV caddy for the stroll to the bathroom. Halfway to the bathroom I realized that I was leaving a trail, I was currently peeing myself and had been peeing myself to the point that when I actually made it to the commode there was no need. Humiliated I called for a nurse to help with my bedding, clothing and a mop. I was ashamed and crying when she showed up, she talked me down and assured me that I was just fine and everything was normal. I did not believe her, convinced she was laughing at me hysterically albeit inaudibly.
 As I sat in my new clean bed I was not yet humbled, only embarrassed by the security I felt in clean, dry underwear and my fresh hospital gown. I was looking forward to forgetting the incident and indulging in the comfort food of mashed potatoes and mango sorbet that I knew where on the way to my bedside.   My saving grace, Jon Stewart, accompanied me while I waited and tried to forget.
My food arrived and, given my present state of shame, I went directly for the mango sorbet. It was SOOOO good compared to wetting myself that I couldn’t take big enough bites. Bite four was the last bite. The meeting of mango sorbet, 3 days of stool softeners and enough milk of magnesia to evacuate a horse proved no match for my ill conditioned sphincter. Bite four triggered the ass avalanche. I thought I had to fart but I was seriously mistaken.  My bowel release was so rapid that I didn’t know what had happened until I tried to get up.  Fearing a bigger mess I had to use my call button and wait for a nurse, praying it would be a different one than had cleaned me earlier. I waited for 15 minutes and NO ONE came! I was wallowing in my own poo for almost 20 min before someone finally came into help me, the smell was reminiscent of rancid ego and sewer at that point. Turns out another patient had gone into cardiac arrest on my floor moments before I shat myself consuming all available nurse resources (I know, how inconsiderate of them!).           
As soon as the nurse showed I burst into tears like a little girl, “I ha..aa..d and aaaccident, I...I need help, it’s everywhere!”  I was prepared for the worst but the worst was already over. The nurse had nothing but calming, helpful things to say. She assured me that I was heavily medicated and these things happen. She insisted that nothing was wrong. She wiped the feces from my backside and legs with dignity and respect. She helped me without a single grimace or a frown. She changed my bedding and re-dressed me as if my comfort was her only concern. She simply did not respond to the stench or the abstract poo art I had made on the sheets and my gown. In that moment I felt truly humbled and blessed. In that moment I knew that the world was a good place and that humanity was not doomed. I now know, deep in my heart, that humbleness and humility still have a place in our society. I was blown away by this truly human exchange, it humbled me.  At the end of the day, shitting myself renewed my hope in the fundamental goodness of humanity :)

Saturday, October 23, 2010

1 in 3 Million.



            I beat the odds, one in three million. Not one in a million but 1 in 3 million. Normally attaining something this rare is accompanied by strong feelings of luckiness, triumph and/or jubilation. I beat the odds, I recently won the least sought after lottery in medical history.   
            Last week I had a nasty little sinus infection that my doc remedied with antibiotics. This treatment served as the purchase of a winning lotto ticket. One in three million people who take the antibiotic, Septra will develop Stevens Johnson Syndrome. At first listen Stevens Johnson syndrome sounds like a term used to identify those who speak about their genitalia in the third person.  Unfortunately for me this is not the case.
            Stevens Johnson syndrome (SJS) is an allergic reaction identified by large blistered regions of dying skin.  In this condition the first layer of skin is determined to separate from subsequent layers of skin. It effects areas around mucous membranes more so than others. My ears, lips, vag, and anus we most blistered. 90 % of my body was covered in blisters within 24 hours of finishing the Septra prescription.  I not only won the 1in 3 million lotto ticket but I also won the consolation prize; a blood born yeast infection. The Septra antibiotic destroyed all the good bacteria in my system that eats excess yeast. Vaginal, anal and oral yeast infections were the result of aggressive yeast colonization of my body. I was enveloped head to toes, inside out with itch.  I now know what it feels like to need to itch my liver, colon and birth canal.  Blisters inside my urethra lead to a nasty urinary tract infection. Blisters on my lips popped, leaving my lips effectively skinned. Blisters inside my anus accompany the five days worth of backed up poo crated by the massive influx of medications to fight the SJS.
            Now instead of a sinus infection I am the proud new owner of hundreds of thousands of blisters, three yeast infections, an ancient bowel movement, urinary tract infection, skinless lips, and blistered ears, vag and anus. My IV medications include fluids, steroids, Benedryl, Dilauded, Pepcid and a new antibiotic for my UTI. My topical medications include Lidocaine mouth rinse, Lidocaine vag/anus ointment, vitamin A&D cream to protect my lack of lips and prednisone (steroid) eye drops.  My oral medications include more Dilauded and milk of magnesia.
            I am the not so proud winner of the most horrible lottery in medicine. 1 in 3 million would agree.

Reigning in the Inner Curmudgeon

  Nurse Bonnie calls me cutie just about every chance she gets. At first I though it was just a personality twitch. Something she couldn’t control like calling a stray cat 'kitty kitty kitty'. If I ask for something it’s always “comin right up cutie!” Whenever she reciprocates thanks it’s “you’re welcome cutie.” Normally not the kind of personality information I would read into, but instead I would write this behavior off as improper noun abuse and ignore it. This time is not a normal time. As I am covered head to toe in bloody boils and itchy legions I found myself increasingly irritated with nurse Bonnie’s abuse the term 'cutie.'  
     My plan was to subtly retaliate using a similar word, ‘sweetie’ as much as I could. In hopes that this would irritate her and she would see the error of her 'cutie' abusing ways. I ended five different statements with Sweetie over three minute period. Bonnie was not fazed, she seemed indifferent.  I needed a new strategy. I needed to let her know the overuse of cutie was ostentatious and absent-mindfully pretentious. Not to mention that given my present condition referring to me as ‘cutie’ was just plain incorrect.-- In that very same mind breath (the last sentence was the inhale) I realized what was going on. Upon exhaling my mind breath the answer manifested itself. Nurse Bonnie was not absent-minded, pretentious or wrong. She was a Jedi. She was using her Jedi Nurse Bonnie powers on me. Her use of this word ‘cutie’ was intentional. She was trying to exterminate my temporary low self-esteem with her cutie light saber. She knew I felt incredibly ugly and this was not something Jedi Bonnie would stand for. She attacked my dark side with the force. I felt instantly more beautiful because she cared enough to use the force. Do or do not, there is no try. Cutie or Cutie not, there is no itchy legion.