Last night was very bad. I found blood on my sheets and had a sleepless night filled with worry. Wound care came this morning and found a small tear likely from sheer on my right butt. The wound, though small and superficial, is still a significant worry. I am sitting very little, transferring with extreme caution and yet still having trouble. This makes me wonder what will happen when I am an older man (note the use of the word older). What got to me last night was the fear--fear of the future. For good reason, I have been fearful of skin problems and avoided serious complications. I was proud of this as I knew once such problems arise solving them is a time consuming process. I have now learned this in a visceral way. I am after all these months spent. I am tired, sick of my home, desperate for the ordinary and active life I once had. It has been months since I was outside my home. Sure I have seen various doctors and hospitals but not seemingly normal everyday activities. I wonder if I will ever return to that ordinary life. I cried last night for that loss.
As for my wound, last week wound care appointment was a bust. The doctor following my care could not see me. A surgical emergency came up. Bad timing for sure but those things happen. Perhaps I am more philosophical than most as I know when I was a sick kid I recked many schedules. Tomorrow I see a big time plastic surgeon in New York City. I have avoided seeing these men and women my entire life and must confess to being biased against the field. Any surgery I have had in my life was forced--as in I had no choice and any surgical result could only improve my quality of life. Thus I find it hard to fathom any choosing to do any sort of elective surgical procedure. We will see what the surgeon has to say but I know one thing for sure--he will say surgery. It is what surgeons do. I do not know if this is the right or wrong thing to do. I am going to have to rely on the plastic surgeon and doctor who has followed my care to make that determination. This is a huge leap of faith. I am not good at leaps of faith or trusting others. Here though I have no choice. I have done my research online, know how to have an educated conversation but when push comes to shove I am going to rely on the opinion of the doctors. How I wish I was not in this position. Wishing this is a waste of time. I need to deal with reality. How I deal with that reality has varied greatly in the last few months. A true emotional roller coaster this wound care business is.
Paralyzed since I was 18 years old, I have spent much of the last 30 years thinking about the reasons why the social life of crippled people is so different from those who ambulate on two feet. After reading about the so called Ashley Treatment I decided it was time to write a book about my life as a crippled man. My book, Bad Cripple: A Protest from an Invisible Man, will be published by Counter Punch. I hope my book will completed soon.
Search This Blog
Monday, January 10, 2011
Wound Care Again
Posted by william Peace at 8:51 AM 4 comments:
PhD 1992 in anthropology Columbia University, I am interested in disability rights and bioethics.
Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)