For
most people, this wouldn’t be a big deal. If you have been prescribed a simple seven
day course of antibiotics, the only significant thing that will change in your
life is that you will be rid of the inconvenience that is having to remember to
take a pill once or several times a day for a week.
So
why am I blogging about this? Not really a big milestone or anything, is it? A
pill is a pill is a pill regardless of what it is for… nothing significant. Loads
of people are prescribed antibiotics every day; it is common place.
Except
it is not, or at least not for me. Other than a few days in the middle of February
and a week in May that I now regret, I have been on some antibiotic or another
since the 9th of February. That is almost eight months and a hell of
a lot longer than the standard seven to fourteen day course of antibiotics. After
all that time, it will be lovely to no longer have to remember to take
medication. But the convenience of not having to take medication is not why I
am blogging.
The
antibiotics I was on (Cephalexin, Doxycycline, Septra, IV Vancomycin) where
prescribed to keep the bone infection under control. Without them, the
infection would flare up, causing sinus tracts/sores to form on my shin,
fatigue, and an increase in bone pain. When we realized that the infection was
getting worse anyways, the antibiotics were there to tide me over until surgery so I
could finish the semester at school. And then, most importantly I think, the
antibiotics were there to mop up any infection that lingered in the soft
tissue/muscle after the surgery to remove the infected section of my tibia.
In
a way, the antibiotics have been a life line for the past eight months – a
security net of sorts. They carried the promise that the infection could be
cured or at least controlled. By taking those little pills, either chalky white,
foul smelling orange, or tiny round like an m&m, or hooking myself up
to the PICC line I had, I felt like I had some control over the situation. At
least I was doing something.
But
not anymore. I just swallowed the last pill. And now the great wait begins to
see if the infection is actually really gone or if it will rear its ugly head
again. I am excited and hopeful that the infection will not return. I have to
be, because I need something to cling onto right now – I am missing 2.5 inches
of my tibia, I can’t walk without crutches, I have bone pain, and I have placed
all control in the hands of my doctors and their confidence in their ability to
regrow my bone and get me walking again. I am in no man’s land right now; I can’t
go back because I have no tibia, but I can’t go forward until the next surgery
in 7-8 weeks. It is frustrating, the cast is uncomfortable, the ends of my
tibia hurt. So I need something good to come my way, and not having symptoms
reappear once I stop the antibiotics is that good thing.
On
the other hand is fear and trepidation. This is the moment I have been waiting
for. What will my body do? It has failed me in the past. The last time around I
had every reason to believe the surgery in 2012 and the 16 months of
antibiotics did their job and the infection was gone. And then it came back
anyways. I am terrified of the idea that this could just keep coming back again
and again, over and over for ever, or that it will never go away, not even for
short periods of remission.
Swallowing
this last pill today is a big deal for me. More than big. It is milestone. And
now the wait begins. I think we can all agree that waiting is hard, and it is
worse when you are waiting for something bad to happen. That is how I feel
right now, that the infection will come back. I want so badly to be healthy,
normal. I don’t have dreams of exotic vacations, an expensive new wardrobe, making
lots of money, being famous. All I want is to be healthy. I do not know if I
can convey the intensity of that. Yearn is a good word. My body yearns to be
healthy again. I am so incredibly tired of being exhausted and feeling blah. To
just wake up in the morning feeling refreshed…
I
have been completely knackered the last few weeks. Things were improving after surgery,
but then it is like I hit a brick wall. Living with a chronic illness is a
battle. Every morning I wake up and the first thing I do is evaluate how I
feel. Most days I am on the losing side of the battle. I sit up, look in the
mirror, and think “Bummer, I still look horrible and I’m still exhausted”. My
face looks drawn out and thin, eyes barely open. I have lost before I get out
of bed. How tired I look has become a common point of conversation between my
mum and I. I feel like a zombie most of the time. We are starting to get a bit
concerned. We have several theories of what is causing the fatigue: my body
could be trying to reject the cement spacer; I could be using up all my energy
in a futile attempt to heal my leg; long terms antibiotics can cause severe
fatigue; or the infection is back. My infectious disease specialist couldn’t stress
enough at my last appointment on Sept. 15 to call her if we had any concerns.
She said to call for even the slightest thing. Perhaps I should call her. I do
see my orthopedic surgeon this Friday. I will have a good talk with him, and I
am guessing he will call infectious disease while I am there because honestly,
I look like crap and being this exhausted could be a sign that something is
amiss.
Other
the fatigue and anticipation to see what happens now that I have stopped my
antibiotics, the last few days have been good. I got my hair cut last Friday.
On Wednesday morning my aunt came over for a few hours. Yesterday mum and I
went out to Niagara on the Lake. We actually got out of the car and walked down
both sides of Main Street. My leg hurt a lot after but it was worth it. Being
able to put some weight on my leg while using crutched definitely makes going
out easier. Mum thought it would be a bad idea because I was so tired, but I
reasoned “I am exhausted either way. I can either sit on my bed at home
watching day time tv feeling tired, or go out, have some fun, and be tired
anyways”. Today was a slow day. I coloured a bit in the morning, worked on my
embroidery project most of the afternoon and evening, and went to a motorcycle
shop in the afternoon with my brother so he could pick up his new leather chaps
and jacket and I could get him a gift for Christmas (cause I am not braving the
mall when I have my fixator next month). It got really cold today so I am
staying toasty under a mountain of blankets, sweaters, and comfy socks. I am
trying to take it easy and be kind to myself. I hope tomorrow is a better day
energy wise. At least I can always sit in a comfy chair with a magazine or my
embroidery. It’s the little things that count =)
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My colouring. Seems appropriate given the weather =) 
The last pill.
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