An Antibiotic Affair

So as the title of today’s post would suggest, I spent last week chomping down on a cocktail of Metronidazole and Clarithromycin 🙄

Photo by analuisa gamboa on Unsplash

Contrary, to how I thought my week would go after surviving what felt like the plague, but was obviously only a viral infection, I’ve been stuck at home in pain thanks to an infected Pilondial abscess. To say that I’m not impressed is am understatement. Mainly, because I don't want another encounter of the surgery I had last year to get it drained.

The surgery itself wasn't a problem. It was my first time under general anaesthetic and I was fascinated by the fact that one minute, I was lying on my side, outside the operating room, with the anaesthesiologist stroking my hand as I counted back from 10 and the next, I was waking up in the recovery room, with a nurse calming me down whilst removing the breathing tube from my mouth. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that there was 2 hour window of my life, I knew absolutely nothing about. All I knew, is that I went in, in pain and came out not in pain. Now, that was partially due to having the abscess drained and partially due to the shit load of morphine they had flowing into my blood stream. Needless to say I could lie on my back for the first time in over 2 week. So I was a happy bunny.

That happiness came to an abrupt end 2 days later, when I had my first experience of  having my wound re-packed. Yes, you read that correctly RE-PACKED. Now bearing in mind, the doctors had explained before surgery, that they would be leaving the wound open to heal from the inside out to avoid further infection. However, there is no explanation on the planet, that can prepare your for the pain inflicted, whilst the nurse proceeded (not her fault BTW), to take out the cotton wool-like material that had been stuffed in my wound in surgery, to then clean it and then re-stuff it. Needless to say, I screamed the hospital down like a newborn, and was reduced to tears once she had finished. Upon leaving the hospital feeling traumatised, it dawned on me that I was about to go through that everyday for at least the next 4 weeks. Cue the tears again.

Even with codeine, those first 2 weeks we're torture. After that, I started  getting used to this invasion  of my body as the wound got smaller and it became less painful. By the time a month had gone by I was down to every other day and then 3 weeks later, it had completely closed. There was no better words uttered, than when the nurse said  “You no longer need to come back" I literally could've kissed her.

With that being said, I still wasn't able to sit for long periods of time, so it was another couple of weeks before I could return to the office to work. Which I was grateful for, as working lying down, is doable, but an inconvenience, as you have to keep switching sides to avoid dead leg, and I couldn't just roll over. I also couldn’t lie on my tummy for too long, as my neck would start to ache. Something I've been reminded of this past week.

Therefore having experienced all of the above, on Sunday night (after rolling over in pain and screaming the house down) I felt a sense of dread at the thought of going through that ordeal again, only 15 months later. Determined to avoid that, I got on the phone to the GP to get an appointment ASAP. Thankfully I got seen Monday morning, to which the doctor advised that it was infected, but it looked like it may have been caught in time and Antibiotics should.....be able to help. He did feel the need to point out, that if they didn’t work, I'd be facing another trip to the hospital to lose another 2 hour window of my life. To which I promptly advised him, to give me every type of drug he could prescribe to avoid that. He laughed.... I did not! He then went on to prescribe me,  Clarithromycin 500mg and Metronidazole 400mg for 7 days. The latter you cannot drink with, which is ironic, because if there is ever a time I'd  wanted a drink, it's whilst waiting to see if the antibiotics would do a superman and fight the infection so that I could avoid a second butt hole again.

Now, you all know how I feel about jinxing shit, but......it would appear, that I may have swerved another opportunity to rock for that beautiful hospital gown, material underwear and compression socks. I'm still not able to completely sit upright, but I am getting there. The protruding lump at the top of my butt crack has shrunken immensely. So shout-out to Sir Alexander Fleming - who Google says invented antibiotics. 

There is the possibility it will burst on its own over the next few days as I have come to the end of the course - which as gross as it sounds, would be helpful as any infection or pus still in the wound, would swiftly vacate my body. But if not, I'll still take it as a good sign that its all cleared and should start to be able to sit for longer periods of time. 

Canadian Breakfast

Hot Chocolate 

I tried testing my ability to to sit today, when I went for brunch, with my  lovely neighbors at Forks & Green. Unfortunately, after a couple of hours, I was back in discomfort. This should subside over the next week though...again, fingers crossed



Thus, my hopes for this week are that this abscess malarky is over and done with, so I can get back to a normal life of yoga, working out (being confined to my house all week, taking antibiotics has seen me eating for comfort rather than survival, leading to an expanded mid-section) and getting back to the office (its funny how you miss being around other people, when you can't) 

I did however, get out yesterday to do half of walk the walk. Nothing like not being able to sit and cabin fever, to get you up and out. I also helped my dad babysit my little bubba's Saturday night and it was lovely to spend time with them #my2favouritepeople

So here's to a better week. As we draw a close on October, let's get ready for a great November. Especially as the eggnog latte, should be in Starbucks soon.

Have a great day, remember you are a unicorn and don't let anybody shit on your rainbow 💗