Exactly as it says, slowly does it! I am finally getting back out there. I have managed three wheeling sessions, two handcycles, and three swims with gym, in 4 weeks. Not as good as I had hoped, bit also better than nothing! The post surgery TMR pain is now in full swing. At least I hope that is what I am experiencing, and there is nothing worse around the corner. All I can say is, omg… When my lovely surgeon told me to expect 6-12 months of he’ll, she wasn’t kidding. It’s like targeted crps flares. Basically like I’m being stabbed by a red hot poker. It can go on for minutes, but more often than not, it seems to be days. The worst part is that nothing helps. The boiling hot heat packs help with the crps flares, but they don’t seem to help with this new pain. So I have to wait until it goes! Pretty annoying. But, hopefully it will be over within the alloted time period? Fingers crossed for the lesser 🤞.
A successful wheel…
So, also, I’ve been privileged to take part in an article for Blesma magazine on TMR surgery. They have followed me through my surgery, and after. Should be fun to read. Not sure when it will be out, hopefully in the next one.
I must say, I will be glad when things are looking up a bit more. Although I know better times should be coming, I’m getting a little inpatient. There is so much of life I wish to experience, and so much of it depends on pain levels, and the predictability of flare ups. It is rather annoying, having to cancel things all the time. Having to cancel dates with friends, general appointments, and I’m yet to start at the track because I had a flare before my first session last week, which was so upsetting. 😢. I can’t wait to start. Maybe even compete one day? Who knows?
Well, as you may guess, I’m starting to go a little stir crazy! This infection is relentless. I’m now on another type of antibiotic, Co-amoxiclav. The Flucloxacillin ran out the other day. It was very strange. I went to bed feeling a bit better. Then by lunch time the next day, after not having any antibiotics, I was back to feeling awful again. My heartrate was over 100 again, known as Tachycardia. I felt extremely tired, to the point that I couldn’t stay awake. I felt very sick and had no appetite at all. I also felt quite shakey. I had no temperature, but have not had a significant temperature (pyrexia) throughout the whole period of my illness. There is a common misconception that you have to have a temperature to have an infection or sepsis. My consultant said he thought I was septic when I finally received IV antibiotics. There is such a thing as hot sepsis, where you have a temperature (a temperature above 37.6) and cold sepsis, where your temperature is normal or below. Normal is different for everyone, but in general the normal range is 36-37 degrees. I am normally 36-36.5 when I’m well, so I know if I’m at 37.5 I’m usually not too well. We’ll my temp was a bit up bit not into the 38 plusses, which is where worrying begins. So at first they just focused on that. Until they finally realised that my other observations, like high heartrate (over 100 bpm) and low blood pressure was telling a story. Normal blood pressure is 120/80. Low is considered 90/60 or below. High is considered to be 140/90 or above. Mine was 60/40 at one point. My heartrate was 140-160 at rest, whilst laying in a bed. So there was no doubt I had a problem.
So, observation lesson over, I was basically feeling rubbish again. I decided to try 111 first before going to A&E, hoping to speak to an on call Dr. I spent over an hour with the phone on hold, and eventually gave up. So we were off to A&E again. We’ll bloods were taken and my platelets were high, my red blood count was low, and my crp was up. All showing infection. So I started on antibiotics again! The next day I felt a little better. Then on Monday these ran out and I fortunately spoke to a great GP at my local Dr surgery who decided to try another one. So here we are. Awaiting more blood results today! But still feeling rubbish to be honest.
Me training!
So here I am. Still feeling to rubbish to train. We now have access to a new pool and gym. My wifey, who is amazing joined us up to David Lloyd whilst I was in hospital, as she knew how desperate I was to swim again, and start training for a Triathlon. So now I’m at home, my handbike now accessible, my wheelchair itching to get going, the new pool and gym waiting for me…and I’m still stuck to the sofa. Finding it difficult to eat more than a bowl of cereal and a piece of toast in a day. My muscle mass is deteriating, and I’m feeling absolutely rubbish. No energy at all. Then I’ve been sat watching the Olympics, which makes me want to train more than ever. I want to do my half marathon, but now I know I can’t. I want to do a marathon. I want to start training to do Triathlons. Hopefully one day an Iron-man. I have so many ambitions, and yet being glued to the sofa, is not one of them! It is quite depressing to be honest. I’m not too patient at waiting to do things I love! I just wish this infection would listen to me, and GO AWAY!!!
So for now, it’s fingers crossed. Try to eat, and be patient 🤣. One day I will be back out there…and that day will be amazing!!
As you may have gathered, I’m still in hospital! I mistakenly thought I’d be in and out within 5 days. I was pre-warned that it could take a couple of weeks, or possibly longer, but I thought, I’m tough, I’ve been through lots already, I have a very high tolerance to pain… None of those things make any difference to any hospital stay. It is impossible to predict how you will recover, or how long it will take. I can say, that previous to this experience, I was certain that I had reached the very hight of my pain level. That pain couldn’t possibly be worse that CRPS flares with neuromas… I was wrong. CRPS flares, with surgery is far worse. I was warned, so it wasn’t lime I went into this not knowing that things would be tough. But usual me… I shrugged it off, and thought to myself ‘oh well, what’s a little more pain?’ Well, I can tell you… a lot!!! I’m feeling battered, bruised, sore, sick, tired, and missing my babies. All that said, however, things are steadily improving, and the care and treatment I have received here at the QVH hospital in East Grinstead has been just incredible. All of the staff are just to kind, and caring. They have been there for me through night and day. I know you must be thinking, well thats what is supposed to happen in hospital, well let me say… it doesn’t always happen. After being a Nirse myself for 14 years, I’ve seen a substantial lack in compassion within the field. Yet here, they all have oodles of it. They are warm, and friendly. They make me cups of tea in the night when I’m awake in pain. My surgeon Tania Cubison, the genius, always comes by every morning to check on me. The pain nurses have been in every day, trying everything they can to see me through the tough times. The anaesthetists have been to see me every morning and evening to administer boluses into the nerve catheter in my leg. I am honestly, truly amazed.
Battered and bruised!!
So, we have lowered my intravenous pain medications now, and are lowering the local anaesthetic meds going into the nerve catheter in my leg. The pain is rather bad a couple of times a day, which is when the anaesthetists step in. But we’re making improvements in that respect as well. The plan is that the nerve catheter needs to come out by the weekend, as its been in too long by that stage, and could increase risk of infection, which I definitely do not need. So watch this space. Hopefully I will be home by early next week, if not sooner 🤞
So, at this point I was feeling pretty pleased with myself. I was wheeling about the hospital. I had taken my catheter out. I was off the pumps of morphine. I had to have my dressing taken off because I had blisters around my wound. But other than that, all was great. I made a lovely friend too. She helped me through some of my toughest days. When Cat (my wife of 11 years) came in to see me, which was every day, we all used to sit and talk. She made me laugh so much. Who would have thaught id make such good friends with a 75 year old?
So after being in hospital for 12 days, the Doctors decided that I was doing so well, and I could go home. This was the best news ever, so why did I keep on bursting into tears? Was it that I would miss my friend? Maybe I was scared of going home as Id been safe and looked after so well in hospital? Was it hormones? ( although it couldn’t be as that ship had saled last week!). Well, it turns out that It was none of those things.
My 1st full day out of hospital. Lunch at Coal.
Before I was aloud to go home, we had to get on top of the phantom pain that I was getting. It was pretty much constant. A very unpleasant mix of electric shocks and intense pain. So I was started on mirror therapy. It was the strangest feeling. I was sat with a mirror between my legs. Looking at a leg that was no longer there, and it flet like my leg was growing back! Like id had really bad pins and needles, and the blood was finally rushing to my foot. But it couldnt be! I no longer had a foot! I then did some exercises, which was also very strange, and then had to look at my foot relaxed again, and this time it felt like the blood was running out of my foot and it was going numb again. What an amazing organ our brain is!
I was aloud home on the Sunday. 13 days spent in hospital, and 9 days post op. All the while I kept on crying at nothing. It was so great to be home. To see my two little boys, Winkeypoo and Jelly bean. Dont worry, they are my cats, im not a complete odd ball!! They are kind of like replacement children though. ( I wont bore you to death with tales of my cats, as most devoted fur mummies will tell you, we can go on for days!).
Just incase you were wondering what they look like, grey and white is Winkeypoo & black and white id Jelly bean.
So I was home. I was really happy to be home. To eat some nice food. Not that the hospital food wasnt nice, because it was. Its just that as someone who is allergic to gluten, the menu had the same stuff on it every day. So unless you stay for 4 days or less, you get rather bored.
That evening, I kept on crying on and off. My poor wife must have thaught that I diddnt want to be at home. When this was definately not it. I love being home. I was in alot of pain.
The next day we went back to the hospital to visit my friend. She was waiting for a care package, so was really fed up with waiting. She was ready for home over a week ago. It was grear to see her, and a few other ladies who I had made friends with. From there we went out for lunch and then spent a nice evening watching movies. It was then that it happened….
I had a day dream. I was in a dark room, and in front of me was an old furnis. The door was open, and I could see the hot coals and fire bellowing. On the right hand side there was a large yellow bag, lined with a thick brown paper bag. I walked over to it and inside was my leg and foot. I stared at it for a minute and noticed that my toes were crying. It then spoke and asked me why Id done this. Why did I get rid of it?
Well, following this, I cried more than ever, and then It hit me. I was grieving for my leg. I was told that it could happen, but thaught it was kind of silly, and wouldnt happen to me (a sentance which you would think Id learnt to never use by now!). But here we were. Me sobbing like crazy, with Cat trying her best to console me. It took a while, but I finally came around.
The next day I felt so much better. I was not crying anymore. Cat had taken the week off work, so we were getting out and about. It was here that I started to realise all the things that my prosthetic councellor had told me about. All the things which she said I would find hard, and all the difficulties I would have. But I was home, and now I couldnt stop smiling.
Lexi's journey through life as an elective amputee for CRPS. 