The exercising is continuing on as it should. I am up to three sets of twelve squats three times a day holding three pound weights. From 2000 steps per day I am up to 3500 per day. I realize the goal is 10,000 but I have to say that seems like a lofty goal right now. The most important thing is I am NOT giving up. Maybe I'm going slow, but I am not going to stop. I have to admit the Fitbit creeps me out a little. It counts my steps and will let me know how I am sleeping, but I haven't activated that action yet. Just seems weird to have a watch band monitoring my dreams.
Last week Wednesday I woke up at 3 a.m. with the middle finger on my left hand throbbing in pain. This was not a little pain, this was a big pain, huge. I flicked on the hallway light and ran into the kitchen looking for pain pills before I even looked at my finger. I tossed the Tramadol aside, said no to Tylenol, and went for the Ibuprofen. Four pills later, a big nonono with Crohn's but at the time I could care less, I looked closely at my throbbing hand.
It looked like someone took a cherry and stuck it on top of my finger. My lord did the thing hurt and it was obviously an infection of some sort. One of the joys of living with Remicade is the bizarre things that happen to you. My primary care doctor just loves me. She starts screaming FIRE the minute I show up at the office. All the nurse practitioners line up to see what is happening and what oddity I might present with this time.
It was the middle of the night. So, I took my temperature and it was about 100. Well, they said only go to the hospital if it's over 101. I did considered going to the emergency room, but it's at least a half hour away and the ibuprofen was starting to kick in. I worried that if it happened this fast what would the morning look like? I contemplated waking my husband but decided my finger tip was a long way from my heart. I climbed back into bed but I have to say I never really fell back to sleep. The stupid finger hurt too much.
By the time I called the doctor the infection had spread to my joint. This was one fast moving critter and they got me right in. The nurse practitioner saw me first. First thing she did was take my temperature. 99.1, better than last night, but I had to tell her the truth that I had the dreaded ibuprofen in me. She glanced at me and went through my chart.
Abcess, check.
Ulcers, check.
Eczema, check.
Thrush, check.
Then....
"You were hospitalized with sepsis?" she demanded.
"Uh, yes."
"Give me that finger." She took a look. "I have to go get the doctor."
I expected as much.
I LOVE my doctor. She bustled in, said a quick hello, and looked at my finger. I have no idea what she said but it sounded something like Purdue. Now I know there isn't a university in my finger so it had to be some kind of infection I didn't understand. Next thing I know I have antibiotics in me and I am heading toward the pharmacy. Another near disaster averted by my decision making skills. Well, at least I didn't wait until my fever was 104.
The last thing my doc said as I headed out the door was, "Be sure and go to emergency if it spreads further."
I nodded and promised.
Everything was good, the finger was healing and the pain improving. Until last night when I woke up in the middle of the night with a slightly aching thumb. It wasn't as bad as last week's finger and I remember thinking it was just a hangnail at which point, I rolled over and went back to sleep.
When I got up this morning, my thumb was red and my cuticle has a tear. I can see the infection starting already so I arm myself with antibiotic cream, band aids, and hot water on my way into work. I don't bite my nails or my cuticles so I have no idea why this is happening. Unless I am doing something in my sleep I am unaware of. I am following doctor's orders by keeping the thumb in hot water. She thought maybe I needed a little extra blood with Augmentin in it to the area and what better way of getting it there.
So now I wait.
Don't get me wrong. I love Remicade. While I still have flares that come and go my life in no way mirrors the one I was used to living. Yes I get tired and yes I get weird infections, but I do not want to go back to permanently active Crohn's disease.
Anything is better than that.
And thanks for stopping by.
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