98.6. 97.0. 98.2. And Down for the Count...For Now.

Saturday, I had almost an entire day without the Cold Clammy Sweats.

But the temp is still going way too high sometimes. 98.6 for me is around 100 or more for someone else, and I hit it several times despite all the anti-fever meds and antibiotics.

Tuesday, I started putting a little weight on the foot. Just a little, just part way, just a few steps a few times a day. Other times, if I must walk some, I'm using both canes even inside the house. I use the bad foot to sort of balance and to push off back onto the right foot.

The redness and swelling is pretty much gone. The pain is decreasing: now the horrible tenderness is only around the lower leg, ankle and foot, and it's lesser than it was. Before, it was a particular problem because there was no way to avoid it. Did you ever have a boil or something that was so tender if it was just lightly touched you wanted to scream? The entire leg was like that.

Even going to bed, where I sleep on my back with 5 huge pillows under my feet - that meant I was laying this extremely tender leg down on a surface. Sitting in front of the computer, feet up on the stool and pillows as always, at least the pressure on the tender areas was limited to the lower leg and heel.

Wednesday, 11/1, was ID day. That's the Infectious Disease doc, Dr. C.

I called the day before and asked if they could meet me at my car with a wheelchair. We set it all up. This is necessary because I can't really walk yet, and my home scooter is both defective, and not transportable.

I was just finishing the antibiotics. Oral Minocycline. Among the issues for infection with me are that I'm extremely allergic, and that includes antibiotics. The more exposure, the more chances to develop a sensitivity to other antibiotics. So far I'm allergic to penicillin, Keflex, sulfa, erythromycin, Levaquin, and now Rifampin. Those last two are part of the super strong ones used against MRSA.

So...I'm running out of antibiotic options. This is dangerous.

Treating my new cases of MRSA cellulitis as they arise, we want to use enough Minocycline to kill it, but still, use as little as possible. This may help my *carried* germs get more resistant. But it cuts down the chances of becoming allergic to Minocycline. It's a balancing act.

So, at the ID office, we stopped 'em already, after a little less than 2 weeks. The fact that I was back down to a 97.0 temp helped with that decision. It doesn't mean all the germs are killed. For one thing, they never are - that's why I'm a carrier. For another, those germs are known to stay dormant locally - where the infection was - even after months of antibiotics. It may be that this most recent bout wasn't from an external, surface MRSA, but from the germs hanging around the foot's scar tissues since 2004. I overdid it and have been having bad edema issues in that foot for several weeks. That makes an excellent MRSA breeding ground. My bad.

Every time I overdo it, I run the risk of a recurrence. Right now is a very iffy time. I absolutely must stay inactive, stay still and calm, don't overdo it. I'm exhausted and shaken from this last battle, and will be for weeks to come.

If I blow it again, that angry hot red infection can flash all the way back up past my knee in a matter of hours. It did that in 2004, way after the infection was supposedly cleared. When that happens, sometimes the recurrence is more powerful than ever.

So. Today, Thursday, was my monthly pain doc appointment. This is required by Florida law; no in-person monthly appointment, no pain patches. The fact that most chronic pain patients have trouble getting around is indicitive of where those lawmakers' priorities lie. See, this harsh law? It's done to PROTECT us. (Republican nannies this time around, in case you wondered.)

Today, my pride got the better of me. And cockiness. I was feeling a little better and walking a little more than on Wednesday.

So...I didn't call ahead and ask for a wheelchair. No, I was just SURE I could cane my way up to the doc's office. It was only about 150 feet from my parking space.

Right.

It took me 10 minutes. And once I finally made it inside, the dizziness never went away.

I love my pain doc, Dr. E. I told him about the leg. I gave him an updated meds printout - document that file, keep us safe from the fundamentalist police. He declined to touch it. He's careful that way. Good. He said he wants to see me next month without ONE SINGLE BANDAGE! Hey, it could happen.

I cripped out to the check-out desk, and leaned against the wall. I love the lady who sits there, too. I'll call her Chris. She was signing out another patient.

And I could feel the room spinning worse and worse, and sounds getting far away and sort of echo-y...and she glanced up at me, did a double-take, and asked if I needed a chair. She found the office wheelchair and got it under my butt just in time.

She told me later - when I asked, How did she know? - that my face had gone white. She just knows. She's the office whiz at catching patients just before they fall. They were all kidding her about it because it's true. She said it doesn't matter what color a person's skin is, there's a way that their color changes just before they pass out. She knows how I usually look, and she could tell.

She does this even though she's got a really bad knee. Once, someone had to come get HER back up. When she grabbed a falling patient, her knee locked and she couldn't get up herself. She's not a spring chicken either, she's a real-for-real grownup. Smart and quick, very perceptive, very responsive.

She sweetly got a wet paper towel and wiped the cold clammies off my face. She held my hand - and sneaked a check of my pulse. They made me stay there for a while resting. Then she wheeled me out to my car and we talked for a bit.

She said she admires my spirit, and I said I was just stubborn. Besides, I should be dead over and over by now. I'm on gravy time, and I know it. So how could I not be happy? I'm not supposed to be alive, and here I am. Cool.

She told me about catching the other fall-ees, and how it made her understand she's working there for a reason. She said she wasn't sure about that job at first. Now she knows: she's there to catch people.

She made sure I could get in my house okay. I told her to wash her hands because she touched me and I'm contagious. She said she would. Then, she gave me a hug and a kiss anyway.

And me, glutton that I sometimes am...I took it. Happily. I know she'll wash up and be safe from my germs.

I plugged in the car ionizer to clear my air and improve that dizziness some more. Careful, careful. Rested a while longer. And then I drove carefully home.

I made it.

And slept and slept and slept.

And I can't get that wonderful woman out of my mind.