The anticipated CT scan hasn’t happened yet. In fact, the doc hasn’t been in yet to order it (it’s nearly 11:30 a.m.).
With the big bag of “food” on his IV pole, Bruce’s blood sugar shot up last night and they had to give him insulin. The second time they checked it, it was OK, but the pharmacist was in a few minutes ago and said that if it shoots up again, they can inject the insulin directly into the bag. Oy.
What’s worse (in my opinion) is the pain when he goes to the bathroom. With all the undescribable things going on down there, he said that when waste tunnels through the fistula (yes, he has another fistula), it feels like acid being poured on his skin. Down there. The nurse was telling us about her hemorrhoid surgery several years ago and commented, “Can you imagine how painful it is to have a shot in your rectum?” And Bruce replied, “As a matter of fact, I can.” (Several times a day, he can.)
Yes, it is extremely painful. And it’s really scary. He also thinks another abscess has formed, and that’s not the same as a fistula. Different problems, both difficult to treat. And he has ulcers in his mouth, not to mention a yeast infection (also in his mouth — thick, furry coating on his tongue, causing him to eat less) brought on by antibiotics used to treat infections. Some of the medicines he takes are ones that counteract other ones. All a big fat hairy scary mess.
So please keeping lifting him up in prayer. We thank you for all the prayers you’ve already said for us.
On a side note, Bruce wanted me to say something we’ve been wanting to tell people for several months. We have thanked you face to face or by proxy at times when you’ve given us food, money, visits, lawn mowing, TLC to our dogs (Mike Tyler especially loved on our furbabies during his visits), etc. And we’ve e-mailed you in groups or individually to say thanks. But we haven’t done what Miss Manners would have us do, and that’s send actual thank-you notes — through the mail, not electronically.
It took us a long time just to get most of the notes written, but we still haven’t gotten to the next step and addressed the envelopes. They’re sitting on the table downstairs. It’s not just a matter of having the time to do it, it’s that anything nowadays is an emotional (and physical) drain. Both of us have fought low-grade depression, mental and physical exhaustion and the accompanying inertia, and have put off way too many things in the past several months, although I suppose that’s a subject for a post on another day.
But to those of you who have helped, in ways big and small, know that your thank-you has been expressed in our hearts — even written on a card — and someday we might actually mail it.
Suzy and Bruce.