I Ended Up In the Hospital

I know that nurses are not great when it comes to taking care of ourselves. I fear, however, that I might have taken it to the extreme.

It started innocently enough

I actually remember when I first became aware that something was wrong. It was Friday, July 8th. It started pretty simply. I was just having some discomfort while sitting. That Saturday, while playing video games with my son, he noticed that something was not right. I told him I was having some pain in my rectum. The pain actually got a little better on Sunday and by Monday was minimal. It was going well, except that on Monday I developed a fever. I actually think it started Sunday night as I was absolutely freezing in my bed, but I didn’t think to check.

The fever should have been a clue

Yeah, this should have been my first sign that something significant was happening. However, the fever broke by mid-morning on Monday and I didn’t think much more of it. I went to work on Tuesday and everything seemed to be going well. By Wednesday, however, the pain had returned to a point that was concerning. I called my doctor’s office only to find out he was out of town for the rest of the week. They offered me to see one of the nurse practitioners which normally would have been great. However, considering the location of my pain and the fact that I had worked with both of these ladies in the ER, I didn’t feel comfortable seeing them for this. So, they gave me an appointment for the following Wednesday. For those doing the math, that’s just shy of 2 weeks after this all started.

I couldn’t wait any longer

By Saturday, I was so uncomfortable I simply couldn’t wait till Wednesday. I know my doctor personally, having worked with him before he went to med school. I knew he had been on Vacation, so I decided to text him on Sunday. At this point not only was my pain increasing, but I was also starting to get worried. My doctor replied and told me to come to the office on Monday. Great, that’s only 10 days after it all started. That’s better, right? He did an exam, drew labs, put me on antibiotics, and scheduled a CT.

I got really sick

By Thursday I was really sick. Ironically, I actually felt better that morning than I had in a week or more. I was able to sit at my desk and do some work. That afternoon found me on the couch, too uncomfortable even to sit up. As evening came, I really began feeling bad. I told my wife I wasn’t feeling well. We checked my heart rate and it was in the 120s, even going as high as the 130s. My wife called my mom. She’s a retired ER nurse and lives on the same street as us. When mom got there my heart rate was still in the 120s and I was not diaphoretic. She insisted that I go to the ER, and I did.

Antibiotics, surgery, and rest, oh my

A CT early Friday morning confirmed that I had a rectal abscess. I was admitted and a surgeon was consulted. I had surgery that night to drain the abscess. Over the next 3-4 days I felt better and better. By Monday, I was ready to go home, but the doctors wanted to ensure that my WBCs, which were quite high when I arrived, were continuing to go down. On Tuesday I was sent home.

I should have known better.

The pain should have been a clue that something was going on. I was able to tolerate the pain. However, when I developed a fever, this should have been the red flag that told me to seek care. By the time I finally saw my doctor it had been 10 days since I first noticed symptoms. By the time I went to the hospital it had been just shy of two weeks, and was almost exactly two weeks when I had surgery.

By that time, I was on the verge of sepsis. I was very close to a life-threatening blood infection all because I was tough enough to endure the pain, too proud and ashamed to see the nurse practitioner, and too stubborn to just go to the hospital earlier.

I couldn’t take care of those I love

One of the biggest barriers nurses give to taking care of themselves and building healthy, happy lives is the feeling that it is selfish, or that they are so busy caring for everyone else that they don’t have time to care for themselves. In the midst of all of this, my wife was taking care of me. She has been wonderful and I know that spouses caring for each other is just part of the deal. However, I was keenly aware of the fact that there was very little I could do to care for her in the midst of this.

My failure to care for myself had literally left me unable to care for those around me that I care about. Sure, this might be an extreme example as it did land me in the hospital for 5 days, and on the verge of becoming critically ill. Still, the point is valid. When we fail to care for ourselves, at some point we will not be able to care for those around us.

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