One year ago today, I was admitted to hospital with a fever of 105. The doctors told me that I “should be fine…hopefully.” If you’ve never had a temp that high, let me try to describe it… Hell. Up is left, left is down, right is infinity. It finally topped out at 107 around 5am. (So they told me) They were checking my stats every hour. I don’t really remember much, I was a puddle of sweat and confusion for the next week. The first of four I would spend in hospital) The fever was caused by an infection (That had gone sepsis. That’s doctor talk for “really really bad”) in my right foot that I had surgery on two months before. I needed a bone removed, that was causing a sore on the bottom of my foot to stay open. As a diabetic, that’s not a good thing.The infection grew in the incision because it healed from the top down. It had also been (unknowingly) suppressed by a dose of heavy antibiotics I took because of catching chronic bronchitis, that later became a nasty bout of pneumonia… The “Domino Effect” in full force here people. (Don’t worry, it’ll make a few more appearances in this story…
Over the next couple of weeks I had two surgeries on my foot to remove another bone as well as infected tissue. 14 days after being admitted, I was sent home. (Well, home as in a hospital bed in my moms dining room. Where I’m currently typing this from.) I had an iv hooked to my arm pumping antibiotic’s into me 24 hours a day. I was also taking an oral antibiotic called Flagel. I felt fine at first, but after a few days home, I felt like shit. (Sorry, language.) I couldn’t eat, could barely drink. Nothing solid stayed in my stomach. Home for just 8 days, I was put back into hospital after being diagnosed with C-Diff. Making the long short: The Flagel killed the good bacteria in my stomach, which allowed the infection to grow. I didn’t eat anything for 10 days, and only drank enough to take medicine. And here I thought the fever was the worst I’d ever felt…
The next week was terrible. I lost the ability to speak any louder than a whisper. My brain was more mush than it was with the fever. One of the few things I do remember from that week is HGTV being on a lot. Those property brothers sure are handsome. At the end of said week, I went back home. Weak and tired as shit. (Language. Again, sorry.) The next couple of months were spent healing and sleeping. (A lot of sleeping) And now the worst part of this story…saying goodbye to my dog Dottie… This is way harder to talk about then anything else… She passed in December from a fast growing tumor. Dottie was a 14yr old miniature schnauzer, that we rescued when she was 8. They believe she came from a puppy mill. She was a sweet, smart, little ball of energy. I miss her every day… Mom still cries just thinking about her. We rescued two dogs less than a month after Dottie passed. Couldn’t stand the empty house. Lola and Skippy are straight from the island of misfit toys, and that’s why they fit right in here. More on them another day.
Sometime in early February, I got a small cut on the middle toe of my right foot. (Yep that foot.) Soon after, I gashed my achilles on the same foot, on a bolt that slightly sticks out on the side of the hospital bed. (Domino Effect) Another round of antibiotics almost worked…almost. The infection was too wide spread, and with two wounds they just weren’t enough. At one point my achilles was exposed and you could see it move…(Very unnerving.) I went back into hospital at the end of February, and had to have the toe amputated on March 2. One day before my 34th birthday… Luckily my achilles was okay in the end. There’s something I forgot to mention earlier. Starting with the surgery in October, I used an amazing device known as a “Wound Vac”. It helps keep the incision clean, and promotes tissue growth. Very cool tech. Unless it’s not applied correctly, then it can cause excruciating pain and permanently scar you… Still cool.
After the operation in March, I had to wear a splint (Sort of half-cast.) on my leg to protect the achilles. This of course led to a large blood blister on my heel due to pressure. It wasn’t a problem at first…at first. It then became infected and is only now at about 98% healed. During all these months of healing, my foot has been slowly becoming more and more deformed. This is due to the bone that connects to the tendon on the right side of my leg being infected and thus removed. This has led to other issues. Most notably, a large blister forming and bursting on the bottom of my foot. Which then put me in a cast for 9 weeks. The last one came off Wednesday. I had a series of x-rays yesterday, that showed I will need at least two more surgeries to repair the damage inside my foot. Just a little bit of history repeating…
I’ve been asked many times, “how have you stayed so positive?” “I would be so angry/sad/freaking out! Why aren’t you?” I would always say, “what good would that do?” Look, I’m not saying I was Jesse Ventura from Predator tough. I had some bad days. Besides December…May and June of this year were really hard. I became completely introverted. Another round of heavy antibiotics, from another infection scare dragged me way down. Mentally, I’m good now. Physically? Time will tell. The best thing to come from all of this? I lost 150lbs. In five months… Not a real healthy way to do it, but in the long run it’ll help. I’m under 400lbs for the first time since high school. Not gonna stop there either.
Why did I write this? Not sure really. Am I looking for sympathy? Hell no. I’ve been swimming in that BS for a year. I’ve been trying to get back into writing again after a long “hiatus”. They say you should try writing “what you know.” And this is all I’ve known for the past year… I gotta say this was a bit therapeutic. Maybe I’ll do a few more like this soon. Got plenty of stories to tell… #StillFlying
Dustin Peterson
A very special thanks to all my doctors and nurses. Without them I wouldn’t be here to tell the tale. And a big thanks to the @Paperkeg family. Your support through all this has been tremendous. #TheFlap And last but not least, my parents and my best friend (Of 29 years) Lee. Especially Mom, who has battled her own chronic health issues to take care of me. Dad for smuggling in cans of peanuts for me during the really stressful days. (Don’t tell Mom) And Lee for being there whenever we needed him.
#RIP Dr. Gregory Harrington. You helped save many lives. For mine, I will be forever grateful.
