I called 911 Wednesday morning October 29. This was shortly after calling the hospital to check on the possibility of coming over in a shuttle. Informed they don't provide that service, I was advised to call 911 and arrange transportation accordingly. City of Phoenix emergency personnel arrived in about 20 minutes and after suggesting I take a cab, finally and reluctantly agreed to transport me via ambulance to Catholic Health West affiliate St. Joseph's Hospital and Medical Center in downtown Phoenix. i was laid out, strapped in and rolled into the ambulance on a stretcher and stared at the ceiling as we headed downtown to St. Joe's. I wasn't in pain though I think I was in shock. You probably would be too if you were in my condition.
Gangrene is a complication of necrosis (i.e., cell death) characterized by the decay of body tissues, which become black and malodorous. It is caused by infection or ischemia, such as from thrombosis (blocked blood vessel). It is usually the result of critically insufficient blood supply (e.g., peripheral vascular disease) and is often associated with diabetes and long-term smoking. This condition is most common in the lower extremities. The best treatment for gangrene is revascularization (i.e., restoration of blood flow) of the affected organ, which can reverse some of the effects of necrosis and allow healing. Other treatments include debridement and surgical amputation. The method of treatment is generally determined depending on location of affected tissue and extent of tissue loss.
In just around 72 hours, I had developed gangrene from what started as mildly painful swelling in the week preceding. Much of the tissue surrounding the calf muscle was now loose, hanging, black tissue and smelled to high heaven. It was "malodorous". Or, to put it bluntly, It stank. It stank bad. Like "empty a roomful of people" stank. Folks noticed but were too polite to mention it. Until I got to the hospital.
We made it in to St. Joe's Emergency Waiting Room and I was hurried right on through to see a doctor. He didn't even have to see the affected area before deciding to admit me. I was admitted due to the odor. I was moved to ER Examination Room Four and visited by a parade of surgeons who, after removing the wrapping and viewing the necrosis, agreed on one point; I would lose the leg from the knee down. In fact, they surmised, had I not come in when I did, I could have lost the entire leg including the knee and even my life as we chased the infection through the bone. I was "lucky" they said. Actually, I think I was in shock as the concept of losing a limb just didn't register. Lose my leg? No way, not me. And if I did, I would never have trouble with infection in the prosthesis.
As the surgical professionals continued to file in, the initial prognosis was slowly placed on the back burner and I was scheduled for surgery to determine the full extent of the damage. The last two surgeons to survey the visible damage declined to predict the outcome until getting a better look. I liked these guys. They would try to save the leg. To them it was not a foregone conclusion.
I was moved to a room on the 8th floor to wait for surgery. I made a few cell calls, signed a bunch of releases and contemplated my first time under the knife in more than 30 years. The surgery, "debridement", actually entails removal of the necrotic tissue in the hope that surrounding tissue will heal. It is a major component of surgery for burn patients, for example and in my case, just what the doctor ordered. Surgery was scheduled for 8:00 PM. I was present and accounted for.
No comments:
Post a Comment