Cellulitis Does NOT Mean You're Fat

After a couple of therapy treatments and faithfully wrapping my arm, I noticed a spot on the inside of my forearm, just above my wrist, that was hard under the skin.  When I saw my therapist on Tuesday, she said that it could possibly be cellulitis due to the hardness and the warmth, and told me that she didn't want to do the massage because it could push the infection out into my body.  She sent me upstairs to see my oncologist.

It was 7:00 am, so the nurse was the only one there.  She looked at it, told me she'd contact my doctor and then call me.  I went to work and waited until about 11:00 before calling to check in.  "Oh yeah" she said.  *sigh*  She said that the doctor wanted to have me start a double strength bactrim right away.  She told me she'd call it in.

After work, I stopped at WalMart to get it and they said nothing had been called in.  I drove home mad (doctor's office was closed by now.)  After I got home, I called the on-call line and immediately got a call back.  My doctor was on-call!  Yay!  She didn't sound happy that the nurse had dropped the ball, and told me she would call it in right then.  Now it involved a 30 mile round trip, but I got my medication.

Wednesday morning, the area was nearly twice the size.  That afternoon, I called back in.  The nurse called the doctor and she said to give the bactrim a couple of days to work, and to lay off the LE massage until next week.  Fine.

This morning, I decided to keep my appointment with the therapist, just so someone would look at it.  I got there, she unwrapped me and the area was larger still, and she was concerned about how warm my arm was.  She thought I should go upstairs again.  Same nurse was there.  I showed it to her and she said that she agreed it was worse and that she would talk to the doctor when she got there.  I went to work.

15 minutes into my day, the phone rang.  The nurse told me to go to the ER for IV antibiotics.  She told me to be prepared for the chance that they might admit me.  I hurried to tie up some loose ends at work and headed back to where I'd just left.  Kevin met me there and we waited.  And waited.  Finally they took me back, drew some blood, and hung a bag of fluids and a bag of antibiotic.  It was four hours later before they had a room available, but they did admit me.

I don't know how long I'll be here.  The were pretty vague.  I assume they'll want to see how the arm reacts to the antibiotics.  I am to get them every 12 hours.  I don't feel horrible, the nurses are sweet, and the food is good.  Things could always be worse.  I also get some cute visitors.