Post by auntiewitch on Mar 2, 2011 18:54:06 GMT -8
Most of ya'll have read the saga of the cat. For those that haven't, Monday night our cat got out. He's never been out for more than thirty seconds before. He was not neutered, and there were three unspayed females in the neighborhood. So he was horny. And when he got out, it was dark so he was disoriented. I chased him down with a flashlight, so he was scared and blinded. All of this did not end well. By the time I finally got him in the house, I had some rather impressive scratches and a rather deep bite on one hand.
I patched myself up as well as I could, and called my husband, the school secretary, and the gal I carpool with. My husband was told to get me more first aid supplies. The other two were told I would not be working the next day. Apparently I was quite shaken when I called my coworkers; I was dripping blood and had gashes covering most of my right forearm. The cat, once he calmed down, was bewildered and couldn't understand why I didn't want to hold him.
Yesterday the cat got neutered. I made a call to get myself to a people doctor, and was told that they wouldn't just call in antibiotics. By the time the appointment came around, the bite was swollen and hot. Attack at 8; dr's appt at 11 the next morning. He took one look at my hand and completely ignored the scratches. Apparently cat bites are notorious for severe, put-you-in-the-hospital infections. I heard IV and PICC line and "lose your hand if it doesn't work". I was referred to a surgeon, and told "go now". I got there, she looked it over, and then announced I needed rabies shots. And a tetanus shot. And oral meds for a week. And an x-ray. And if the oral meds didn't work, I'd get an IV/PICC line next week and IV antibiotics three times a day, and I might need it "surgically cleaned". Oh, and if it all failed, yup, I could lose those fingers.
I've been to many, many doctors in my life. Let me just say real quick that every single one has always told me I am THE WORST needle phobe they've ever encountered. It's on the charts at the OB/GYN in red letters, underlined, and highlighted. I went in for the tetanus shot and flipped out. It was not good. Four nurses came at me. They failed. J tried holding me. He failed. I sat on the floor in a ball and jerked away from anyone who approached me. when they left the room, I sat there in severe paranoia. I told J when he asked me to come to him, "No, because you're trying to trick me." They finally sent me out with a prescription for valium and orders to return in an hour.
Bless the doctor, though - he's the first to ask what's going through my mind when I'm about to get poked. He said, "I know it's embarrasing, but there's no reason for it to be." He asked why I have the phobia, and I told him - PTSD from either childhood sexual abuse or mishandling by other doctors, perhaps a combo of both. He offered to train me to give myself the shot - something I've actually researched but given the life/death nature of needing tetanus I wasn't willing to try it lest I goof. He told J that perhaps holding me wasn't the best because he suspected I'd been held down in the past that that was part of what caused the phobia, and he's right, but the problem there is that being held down caused a phobia that now has a strong flight reaction, so I have to be held down.
After the valium, I went back, and the dr joked that I was pretty out of it. He went after me with the needle, and I jerked away and snapped, "I'm not that out of it." He managed the jab anyway, and just shook his head in awe - I don't think he realized the phobia is that deep-seated that even valium can't make it "go away". I had much slower reaction times and less muscle control, so I couldn't get away, and the valium kept me from having an anxiety attack, but the instinct to flee was still there. So we both learned something yesterday.
Today the joint hurts. I can make a fist today, which I couldn't yesterday, and it doesn't hurt to type, but I still can't do a lot of things. I have a hard time lifting things with my left hand - there's no grip there. I can't tell if the pain is in the joint or just in front of it, which scares me a fair bit. This morning the scab was loose and when I pulled at it, it came with a bit of calcified pus - an indication that it was trying to abscess on me. I pushed and pushed from each direction and nothing else seemed to want to seep out, so I'm hoping that's the end of it. If I abscess, they'll IV me for sure, if not do the surgery. The thought of surgery, with an IV and then stitches terrifies me.
Please, please, please, send good thoughts my way that the oral meds do their job and I need no further treatment. I managed to talk them out of rabies shots (Germany hasn't had his rabies shot; we figured since he was never outside he didn't need it. Silly us.). But the IV and such, I won't be able to avoid if I want to keep my hand. And bad as this sounds, my phobia is so bad that losing my hand sounds BETTER than getting the IV. The rational part of me knows better, though.
I patched myself up as well as I could, and called my husband, the school secretary, and the gal I carpool with. My husband was told to get me more first aid supplies. The other two were told I would not be working the next day. Apparently I was quite shaken when I called my coworkers; I was dripping blood and had gashes covering most of my right forearm. The cat, once he calmed down, was bewildered and couldn't understand why I didn't want to hold him.
Yesterday the cat got neutered. I made a call to get myself to a people doctor, and was told that they wouldn't just call in antibiotics. By the time the appointment came around, the bite was swollen and hot. Attack at 8; dr's appt at 11 the next morning. He took one look at my hand and completely ignored the scratches. Apparently cat bites are notorious for severe, put-you-in-the-hospital infections. I heard IV and PICC line and "lose your hand if it doesn't work". I was referred to a surgeon, and told "go now". I got there, she looked it over, and then announced I needed rabies shots. And a tetanus shot. And oral meds for a week. And an x-ray. And if the oral meds didn't work, I'd get an IV/PICC line next week and IV antibiotics three times a day, and I might need it "surgically cleaned". Oh, and if it all failed, yup, I could lose those fingers.
I've been to many, many doctors in my life. Let me just say real quick that every single one has always told me I am THE WORST needle phobe they've ever encountered. It's on the charts at the OB/GYN in red letters, underlined, and highlighted. I went in for the tetanus shot and flipped out. It was not good. Four nurses came at me. They failed. J tried holding me. He failed. I sat on the floor in a ball and jerked away from anyone who approached me. when they left the room, I sat there in severe paranoia. I told J when he asked me to come to him, "No, because you're trying to trick me." They finally sent me out with a prescription for valium and orders to return in an hour.
Bless the doctor, though - he's the first to ask what's going through my mind when I'm about to get poked. He said, "I know it's embarrasing, but there's no reason for it to be." He asked why I have the phobia, and I told him - PTSD from either childhood sexual abuse or mishandling by other doctors, perhaps a combo of both. He offered to train me to give myself the shot - something I've actually researched but given the life/death nature of needing tetanus I wasn't willing to try it lest I goof. He told J that perhaps holding me wasn't the best because he suspected I'd been held down in the past that that was part of what caused the phobia, and he's right, but the problem there is that being held down caused a phobia that now has a strong flight reaction, so I have to be held down.
After the valium, I went back, and the dr joked that I was pretty out of it. He went after me with the needle, and I jerked away and snapped, "I'm not that out of it." He managed the jab anyway, and just shook his head in awe - I don't think he realized the phobia is that deep-seated that even valium can't make it "go away". I had much slower reaction times and less muscle control, so I couldn't get away, and the valium kept me from having an anxiety attack, but the instinct to flee was still there. So we both learned something yesterday.
Today the joint hurts. I can make a fist today, which I couldn't yesterday, and it doesn't hurt to type, but I still can't do a lot of things. I have a hard time lifting things with my left hand - there's no grip there. I can't tell if the pain is in the joint or just in front of it, which scares me a fair bit. This morning the scab was loose and when I pulled at it, it came with a bit of calcified pus - an indication that it was trying to abscess on me. I pushed and pushed from each direction and nothing else seemed to want to seep out, so I'm hoping that's the end of it. If I abscess, they'll IV me for sure, if not do the surgery. The thought of surgery, with an IV and then stitches terrifies me.
Please, please, please, send good thoughts my way that the oral meds do their job and I need no further treatment. I managed to talk them out of rabies shots (Germany hasn't had his rabies shot; we figured since he was never outside he didn't need it. Silly us.). But the IV and such, I won't be able to avoid if I want to keep my hand. And bad as this sounds, my phobia is so bad that losing my hand sounds BETTER than getting the IV. The rational part of me knows better, though.