Fever and Drug Update

I'm walking a fine line between the simple comfort of home living and a brutal cab ride to the hospital in Virginia. Just a few minutes ago I got up to 101 F. Now, it's no 101.8 F, but at the time we measured that high result, we didn't realize the cutoff to hospital glory was 102 F.

I don't get it. All day we had been doing a fine job of controlling it. So to start combating it, I just popped another Tylenol and put a ton of ice on my bald head. If anyone has any recommendations for keeping the measurement below 102 F, like altering the thermometer (it's electric), I'm all ears.

We all know it's a proven fact that if you have two surgeries on your ankle within four weeks, the second one will always hurt more. As a result, I was given another strong drug in addition to everything else I've been taking since the first surgery last month.

It's called Dilaudid. It's in 4mg doses. I'm pretty sure this dosage could kill a horse. It does an excellent job at killing pain and making it difficult to breathe. It does an even better job at making you sound and look like an idiot.

Since I already sound and look like an idiot, you can imagine how much fun my family has when they're around me these days.

You may have read earlier about the consequences of opiates. Guess what happens when you add yet another, stronger pain medicine. You turn one of the side effects, constipation, into a super side effect.

So I increased my dosage of the constipation medicine and decided to develop some inspiration to overcome my problem, through oral medication only, by taking a closer look at the equipment that scares me to death.

The first line of attack when things get bad will be the Glycerin Suppository. It's a formidable size, being taller than a quarter and wider than a pen. The directions for use are not encouraging. "Insert one suppository well up into rectum and retain for 15 minutes."

No, sir.

Let's assume, for some horrible reason, the suppository fails. A fifteen minute waste of time. The next and final option will be the Fleet's Enema. While the box says it's "Doctor's Number 1 Recommendation," I'd quickly switch doctors if this was ever recommended to me.

I had to take out one of these bad boys too see what I was dealing with. After all, the whole goal here is to scare me straight.

Well, I'm afraid to say that this is just a very bad device. It has some kind of gross stuff on the top. Turns out it's a trademarked system called the, "Pre-lubricated Comfortip." While I'm happy to hear they're concerned about my comfort, I'll tell you right now that by the time anyone is using this -- no one is comfortable. No one.

I took a look at the directions for using their product and about died laughing. There are two recommended positions for using this product.

The left-side position looks awful. While your "arms [are] resting comfortably," you're completely blind. You have no idea what's going on back there. You're coming in completely blind.

The knee-chest position. I'm sorry, this is when I stopped reading the directions. I'm not comfortable with any of this.

I'm inspired.

You know, it just occurred to me. This is probably what my wife and parents had in mind the whole time when they bought me all of this constipation medicine.

"Take these pills every day or else you'll be forced into the knee-chest position."

Surgery Two: Dominated

Here I am in the pre-op room, resting in my fancy gown. This thing had a state-of-the-art, built-in central heating system to keep my body warm while I was under anesthesia. It was also purple.

I had not received any medications at this point.

Surgery two was very different from the first one 19 days ago. There was no time to think before the first surgery. I had the accident at 10AM and was under the knife by 2PM. In between those two points in time I had been subjected to numerous pain medications.

I went into the second surgery with plenty of time to think about it. We were a little more anxious as a result. Even though my tibia was destroyed, I thought I'd handle the pain much better this time around than I did in the first surgery.

As you can tell from this post-op picture, my prediction was inaccurate.

Originally I was scheduled to stay at the hospital for 23 hours. It wound up being twice that. Why? My surgeon beat me up.

The surgery was about 3 hours long. Dr. Buchanan had to make a much larger incision on the top of my ankle than originally planned. He removed approximately 20% of the tibia bone fragments. The large pieces were rotated 180 degrees around before they were secured to my second internal fixator. I was given bone graft to help replace the material removed during surgery. Apparently my soft tissue damage is minimal, so I might luck out with little to no tendon problems.

I also learned more about what happened during my accident. When I hit the tree, my right foot was bent backwards, toes toward shin. This force broke my fibula and crushed my tibia. It also stretched and severely bruised a nerve that runs along the backside of my ankle. This is the reason I have no feeling in the soul of my foot and first two toes. But since the nerve was not cut or pinched, I stand a chance of regaining some of that feeling.

Finally, I got to keep my external fixator! After a closer look, the bars are not made of titanium. They're probably some kind of carbon composite.

I thoroughly enjoyed having this metal bar threaded through the inside of my right heel bone.

These screws are wicked. They have a very sharp drill bit built into the tips. Look how far down this went into my shin!

Not sure what my plan is with the external fixator. Any ideas?

Drugmart (or, Why I'm Not at Work)

I'm fairly confident I've been injected with or I've taken orally a large sample of America's best medicines.

I'm taking drugs to combat four key issues: 1) pain, 2) infection, 3) blood clots, and 4) an unnamed problem I'll save for last. I'll explain each in detail below.

Pain control is essential when one has a mashed potato tibia, an adamantium fibula, and a cyborg exoskeleton. Here's my current setup for pain control:

• Oxycodone
  
• Oxycontin
• Percocet
• Valium

The main difference between the Oxycodone and the Oxycontin is that the former is fast acting. If you have pain now, that's what you take. I'm slowly being weened off of the Oxycontin so that it can be used as an effective weapon during my next surgery.

The Percocet is similar to the Oxycodone. I think it has Tylenol in it as well.

Finally, the Valium is used to mitigate muscle spasms in my leg and ankle.

Valium makes me fall asleep randomly for about 5 seconds. On my flight into Baltimore, I was carrying a drink of water in my hand over my lap. One of my sleep attacks hit me and before I knew it I had an icy cold and soaking wet crotch for the rest of the flight. How funny!

Infection is fought with an antibiotic called Cefadroxil. This is to help improve the conditions of my skin around the injury and prepare it for another surgery. Get well soon, skin! Seriously, do it right now.

Blood clots form more frequently with bone fractures. Every morning I get the opportunity to face one of my biggest fears and receive an injection of a drug called Lovenox. Today was my first time to inject myself. It was extremely enjoyable.

I also get to wear a woman's stocking on my left leg, called a "compression stocking." No one has yet explained to me how this helps prevent blood clots. I fear it's simply a long running joke.

Here's a picture of most of the drugs I'm on today. I saved it until now because of some of the ridiculous products sitting in the back. It's now time to explain the fourth and final issue we're fighting: constipation.

Due to the massive amounts of opiates flowing through my veins, my digestive system is moving slower than beltway traffic during rush hour.

My favorite drug is "Super Colon Detox." This isn't your regular, run of the mill colon detox. It's super. And you can tell the manufacturer is a straight shooter by their plain, simple, and direct product name. They're not trying to hide behind some obscure made-up word like Olestra.

Before I finish this post, I need to be exceedingly clear about two of the products you see in that photo. I have not used the saline enema and I have not used the rectal suppositories just above. Though, thanks to the twin pack savings we got, I have not one, but two opportunities to try Fleet's great product.

These tools are a man's last line of defense. Neither one should be brought to the battlefield until all other options have been exhausted.

Until that moment arrives, I've armed myself with prune juice and Miralax.