For all those curious about my last few days...

Here's the official story! This way, I won't have to continually repeat myself; I'll just point everyone to here so they can get up to speed.

***A word of warning: I am not going to hold back any details about this story. If your stomach is weak, don't read. Otherwise, enjoy the next few minutes as you journey through my misery!***

So last Friday, I noticed a painful bump on the front of my left thigh. I had seen it a few times that week while showering and such but thought nothing of it. Friday night was an early one for me so I took Tylenol PM to aide in my sleep and slept fine; I woke up the next morning and got to campus at 8am to volunteer for Math Counts.

The trek home started getting a bit painful... I assumed it was my boots (pain for beauty, people) but by the time I took my jeans off at home, it was obviously the nickel sized bump on my thigh that was the source of my troubles. That afternoon, I played Dr. Thompson on my leg, disinfecting what I thought was an ingrown hair, trying to treat something that should have been simple. Then I realized it was hardening and getting more painful so I decided to just continually put hot compresses and Neosporin on it every few hours.

By Monday morning, it was almost too painful to walk. I hobbled to campus for Ochem lab and called the UHS as soon as lab was finished to schedule an appointment. My diagnosis at this time was pilar cyst, something that can be lanced and drained without much problem. But I saw the dark reddening around the bump and thought it was probably infected, hence all the pain. The pain kept me awake most of Monday night and by Tuesday morning, I was cranky, sore, and ready to get rid of this bump. I lounged around all day, skipping class while trying to keep as much weight off of my leg as possible. The doctor saw me and told me that she thought it was a Staph infection but not to worry because my body had been encapsulating the infection, hence the rising bump. She put me on an antibiotic, told me to apply heat several times a day and predicted the wound would open in a few days, drain and be fine.

I got home with little difficulty that evening and took Advil (lots of it) for the pain. I went to bed early because I had a full day's worth of design work to do Wednesday; I finally fell asleep at 1am but awoke at 5:30 in excruciating pain. The bathroom had never looked so far away but I managed to make it and get some more Advil. I emailed my design group to let them know I was not leaving my apartment and tried to fall back asleep. The rest of that day was horribly painful but with a little help from an unnamed painkiller, I managed.

At 6:15pm, the fun really started. I noticed blood seeping thru the bandage so I assumed it was finally going to drain. When I took the gauze off, I saw the problem: the wound was bleeding from the edges, not the center, meaning the head of the boil was internal, which in scientific terms is REALLY bad. Once I realized that this was not going to die easily, I had my roommate drive me to Brackenridge Hospital's emergency room to be met there by my best friend.

The nurse called me back around 9:30 and thankfully let Rob come back with us (this get's important later). Both the nurse and the doctor knew this thing was going to have to come out and they prepped me for cutting. Rob had to help take my shoes off because by this time, my painkillers were wearing off and moving hurt like hell. By 10:30, the doctor was prepared but I was definitely not. He told me he was doing a 4-point anesthesia right as he stuck the first needle in.

The only way I can describe the next feeling is liquid fire in my veins. I thought I was going to flail my leg up into the doctor's face. He did this 3 more times, making a cross around the bump. Thirty seconds later, I could not feel him flick my thigh so he made his first cut, a 2" incision across the bump and began squeezing the pus/blood from the capsule. This wasn't painful so much as uncomfortable but there were a few jolts of pain during this process. What came next, however, surprised me to the point that I almost vomited.

So I've been looking away this entire time because seeing my own blood/insides is not comforting; but when I felt something digging around inside of my wound, I thought to look up. I immediately begged for Rob to come squeeze my hand because the doctor had his ENTIRE pinkie inside of my thigh in attempt to break up the capsule completely. For the next minute or so, Rob watched and I writhed in horror as I could literally feel a freaking finger rooting around my leg. He took his finger out and preceded to put a pair of blunt scissors in there to break up the last bit of keratin. By this time, I was so uncomfortable that I wanted to vomit but thankfully, there was no pain. He stuffed the hole with antibiotics and gauze and a nurse came in to cover the open wound with more gauze and tape.

My favorite female nurse came in, told me to drop trow, and bend over as she stuck my butt cheek with what I assumed was antibiotic but felt like silly putty. I spent the next 20 minutes walking around the waiting area trying to make the antibiotic dissipate. They discharged me and Rob drove me to HEB's 24 hour pharmacy to pick up my prescription for the pain killers they prescribed. Walking around the store was both relieving and painful at the same time. As soon as I got my meds, I took two as instructed and left for home.

I crashed almost immediately at 1am when I hit my bed, partially from exhaustion but mostly from drugs. I woke up at 5am vomiting profusely because I had forgotten to eat something prior to taking the first dose of Vicodin. At 6am, another pill was taken and at 7:15, I threw up again. Another pill at noon, more vomiting at 1. Finally, I decided that I needed food in my system and waited until 530pm so all of the meds had cleared my system before drinking a large smoothie packed with nutrients and a few granola bars. I held this down successfully and took my medicine. Since that moment, I've been doing nothing but resting, afraid to move too much. Soon, I will take my last pill for the evening before attempting a shower and a changing of bandages. My goal is to be awake and at the hospital tomorrow by 5:30am so they can remove these gauze, check the wound and repack everything. If all goes according to plan, they will let me drive to Houston tomorrow to see my lovely little niece!

UPDATE: I successfully showered, changed the dressing (the wound is healing well), and got a few hours of rest. It's now 5:20am and I am getting ready to head back to the hospital for what will hopefully be my last visit. Everything feels fine, just a little discomfort so my prayer is that the doctor sends me on my merry way to Houston in a few hours!

On Loss and Gain

Anyone following my blog over last semester knows that those few months were hallmarked with serious loss in nearly every aspect of my life. There were times when getting out of bed in the mornings was an arduous task because the darkness seemed impenetrable. It was by grace (and good friendship) that I made it through those months to the holidays and one very long break which managed to be one of the most difficult yet amazing four weeks of my life.

Christmas Eve brought with it both the joy of the holiday and the reminder that we were celebrating for the first time without our grandfathers. I could see the loss in both of my parents' eyes as my brother, sister-in-law, and I sat around the table with them for dinner. Even tho our family traditions did not include Papaw or Grandpa, knowing that they were no longer a phone call away clouded my mind. Christmas day we spent with my mom's extended family and Papaw's presence was greatly missed by every one of us. There is a void where he used to sit that will take a lot of time to heal over; at the time, I was convinced that nothing could ever fill it for me. Yet over the course of food and conversation, our family realized that he would have wanted us to celebrate as though he were still in the room so we did just that!

But honestly, none of the negative emotions this past semester compared to what I felt New Years Day, Papaw's birthday, when I woke up. I saw his shining face in just about everything that day, in the smile my mamaw gave my that morning to the intense pain etched across my uncle's face when he opened my Christmas gift to him (a frame of three pictures of Papaw). By the end of New Years day, I was eager to get back to Austin, to see my friends again, to find an escape from the constant reminders of what my family lost in September.

The next week and a half went by with minimal fanfare. A soon-to-be very good friend stayed the a week with me and we spent our time being completely unproductive. The only valuable change that week was in watching the dynamics between some close friends and me change considerably but as I have come to respect in life, change happens.

Then, on January 15th at 8:06am, everything seemed turn positive. As most of you know, my brother and his wife welcomed into the world my little niece, Olivia Anne Thompson. When I first laid eyes on her, my perspective of life was forever changed, not because I believe that being an uncle is some revolutionary task but because I witnessed for the first time something so incredible... I watched as the brother I have spent 22 years admiring became a father, as the sister-in-law whom I am blessed to have became a mother. The look in their eyes, the love for one another and for this little baby told me that life goes on, that regardless of the losses in our lives, regardless of the deaths, of the path-changing decisions, of the friends who walk out on you, the gains are infinitely more precious. I will forever live for these moments, watching my niece grow up, finding someone to spend the rest of my life with, having my own family, cherishing the wonderful friends I still have; I will no longer be held back or down by the losses but will learn from the lessons they teach.

I finally have hope, delivered to me in a 7 lbs, 19.25", green-eyed, brown headed bundle of irreplaceable joy. I promised her quietly during her first few hours that I would strive to not only be a wonderful uncle but to be a better friend and son, to eventually make a sacrificial husband and to one day be an amazing father. Already she has helped change my life!