"Sepsis" was the answer my wife heard in response to her question of "What could be causing this?" Although other possibilities were given, this was the only word she heard. My wife began to weep quietly as the emergency room staff scurried around me in an effort to elevate my blood pressure. My gurney was placed in Trendelenburg, elevating my feet above my head. IVs were run "wide-open "to "push "fluids. Everyone's attention was on me. No one, not even me, noticed my wife sitting in a chair in the corner with quiet tears running down her cheeks. We had lost our first born child, Alyssa, to sepsis 16 years before, to the month. Now she was faced with the possibility of losing her husband to the same.
Test results came back. "The usual suspects "were ruled out. Since no explanation for my symptoms were identified, I was admitted with the expectation of whatever was causing my symptoms would declare itself by morning.
That night I dreamt that I was floating in a sea of white translucent balloons. Slowly, one by one, balloons began popping, the pops gradually growing more rapid. As more and more balloons popped, I could see vague silhouettes of bodies and tops of heads scattered in the distance around and below me. Suddenly I was awoken by a deafening POP by my head. A nurse stood over me placing a cold pack on my sweaty forehead. My clothes were soaked, my body drenched with sweat and covered by cold packs. She informed me I had a temperature of 105F and was trying to cool me down. The nurse placed her last pack and left the room. I went back to sleep.
I woke in the morning to a horrifying sight. The swelling and dusky, purplish discoloration of my left elbow had extended up to my left shoulder and down to my fingers, which looked more like pudgy sausage links than digits. The swelling made the joints of my arm and hand stiff and difficult to flex.
Hospital transport took me to radiology for an MRI of my elbow. Again, I was treated to the MRI’s cacophonic symphony, only this time I was unable to endure the entire performance. The loudness of the deafening “duff-duffs”, “blop-blops” “screeeeeches” and “rat-tat-tats” ricocheted and frenzied through my head as severe claustrophobia from being in the tight, narrow tube-like opening of the MRI scanner gradually overtook me. I shouted “I CAN’T TAKE THIS ANYMORE!” The test was halted. Fortunately I lasted long enough before panicking for them to get “what they needed”.
Later that morning, Dr. Irvine, the orthopedic surgeon, performed a bedside I&D (incision and drainage) of my elbow WITHOUT LOCAL ANESTHESIA. Before he could finish explaining to me how the local would prolong the pain and procedure, it was over. Although, I did feel some discomfort, more like popping a zit than slicing through skin. His assistant then elevated my arm using a sling of gauze wrapped around my elbow extending to an IV pole raised to the ceiling to keep my arm elevated above my heart. This was done in an attempt to help drain edema fluid from my arm decreasing the swelling, an unsuccessful concept at best.
Early that afternoon the Calvary arrived, Dr. Farin Manian. Dr. Manian, an infectious disease specialist I had the fortune of being treated by two years previously for abdominal cellulose took charge of m.y case. With him managing my care, a relaxed sense of relief came over me. His calm, confident demeanor and assuring bedside manner conveyed “Its going to be OK my friend. I’m here.”
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