OCTOBER 7

Yesterday was a better day and a not so better day.

About midday Terri drove me to the surgeon's office. He was encouraged and encouraging. I even snuck a glasses-off look at the foot, too wussy to confront it with good vision. I could see the wires sticking out of two toes.

The good news was his dedication and knowledge added to his cred.

The not-so-good news was he wanted to add another anti biotic to the regime - another "gut bomb.". I now have meds to take at 2am, 7am, 8am, 10am, 2pm, with dinner, at 7pm. 8pm, 10pm. 6 times daily my gut is bombed, and those pills often make me feel like my innards are on high heat, plus there's diarehha (need spell check!)

We asked for a renew on the pain pills as they run out Sunday, and the surgeon said to speak with the hospital staff doc who is named on the prescription as the issuer. That guy wouldn't do it "unless he could see me first" - but he saw me just 4 days ago. Terri refused to let either one of us be a ping pong ball between two warring docs, and told him to work it out. Apparently the resolution was to prescribe a less powerful more common medicine which I've had for oral surgeries in the past. It causes headaches, gas, constipation, doesn't last as long, and doesn't work very well for me on pain.

The day peaked as we came home and then the pain and discomfort built for the rest of the day. My joints are all barking at me from the contortions made nessessary by one-legged world.

I was cheered by phone and email contact from old friends, though. And Terri is a saint for absorbing my many requests without complaint. Without her I would be in a rehab hospital.

When I get off the antibiotic meds used to carpet-bomb infection, it'll be a major improvement.
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