Teresita Blanco the Artsy Sister Recently Got Out of the Baptist Hospital
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On Monday August 28, I was rotting away in my bed. For the last week, I had been suffering a mysterious swelling in my limbs. The swelling started in my right elbow before migrating to my left knee.
From the left knee, it moved up to my left arm, before traveling back down to my left leg. The swelling in my elbows felt particularly painful. Have you ever been burnt by a cigarette?
Well, imagine that painful sensation but spread across your entire elbow. Since the oral antibiotics where not working fast enough, we collectively decided to go to the hospital.
Mother drove out of the house in the middle of a Category 4 Hurricane. We got lucky that Hurricane Idalia was taking a break. The wind gusts and the rain had died down enough for her to drive me safely to the hospital.
After debating what hospital to visit, mother decided on the South Baptist Hospital in Kendall. We arrived close to midnight. My brother got me a comfortable wheelchair for me to sit on.
The swelling in my knees made it painfully difficult to walk. My brother filled up the forms while mother struggled to find parking. Once the car was parked, she ran to the emergency room.
I was wheeled to the evaluation room. The first lady doctor who saw me started me with my first doze of antibiotics. Hospital antibiotics are far stronger than what you can get with a prescription.
They are also shot straight into your veins, so, they start working immediately. Before getting my antibiotic, the nurse had to get an IV line into my vein. She got a needle into my elbow, while she was at it, she got my first blood works done.
I got three big bottles of blood filled, as well as a dozen of small vials. I wasn’t able to keep count. They where just so many. With that out of the way, the antibiotics bag was finally attached, so, I started getting my treatment already.
I spent some time in the evaluation room. I had a nice comfortable bed and an antibiotic bag. So, I was pretty chill about waiting. My first lady doctor wanted to run some X-Rays, just to be safe.
They wanted to see the size of the swellings of the elbows. While I was waiting, the beeping of the vital signs kept frustrating me. It increased my heart rate to hear that my heart rate was increasing.
Needless to say, I was pretty nervous about the entire experience. A nurse eventually came for me. He took me to the waiting area to get my X-Rays done. Since it was the middle of a hurricane, there were not a lot of patients in the hospital.
The nurse was able to get the X-Rays he needed without having me standup. With that out of the way, I was taken to my bedroom. The bedroom was 4200 and something. I forget. It was an observation room.
I had two nurses assigned to me. Every couple of hours, one would check my blood pressure, my temperature, my heart rate and my breathing. They needed to take my blood pressure though the leg.
My elbows were far too swollen to be squeezed by the blood pressure apparatus. The first time they checked my temperature it showed that I had a fever. A fever is a sign of infection.
So, the antibiotics where clearly fighting something. The identity of that “something” was going to prove to be rather elusive. A different doctor came to check up on me. He was the infectious disease doctor…I think.
I had a fever. So, naturally, my memory wasn’t working at its full capacity. My mother tells me that he was called Gilberto Rodriguez. His initial diagnosis was poliarteritis nodosa.
I didn’t know what that it was. This didn’t inspire me much confidence. The initial blood works showed that I was low on potassium, so I was given a tablet for that. That potassium tablet hit me like a ton of bricks, but I managed not to throw up.
So, I consider that a small victory. The first night in the hospital finally came to an end. I slept a little here and there, but I was nervous about the situation. The second day I got better acquainted with the nurses.
They were all very nice ladies, specially the one from blood works. Due to my terrible veins, I required special preparation in order to get my blood drawn. I first needed to bundle myself up, before mother raised the temperature in the room.
Once my hands got super warm, it was time to draw the blood. Apparently, the first batch of blood works didn’t provide the doctors with a satisfactory answer. In the background, a committee of doctors was forming.
They were all trying to figure out what was wrong with me. The nurse drew more blood to send to a lab that specialized in rheumatism. They wanted to check if I was indeed suffering from poliarteritis nodosa.
A different doctor thought I had cellulitis. The problem with that theory is that Cellulitis only affects one limb. It doesn’t migrate. If you develop it in the arm, it stays in the arms. It doesn’t manifest in a different part of the body.
I got a new course of antibiotics and my first breakfast. I want to take this moment to compliment the chef of the Baptist Hospital. This person was able to make hospital food taste good. I ate breakfast, lunch and dinner.
My mother had taught me this very simple rule: A patient that eat doesn’t die. So, I took this motto to heart. After breakfast, one of the nurses asked the pertinent question: How did this happen to me?
A few even asked me if I got bit by a bug or a spider. I meditated much on the answer to that question. I thought on the last time I felt healthy.
Three weeks ago, I was suffering from a cough. My mother decided to dust off my room. She also wanted to move my bookshelf to another room. The air conditioner was right on top of the bookshelf.
So, there was a possibility that it was shooting dust particles straight into my face. I didn’t assist with the main dusting. I simply dusted my books before setting them in their new location.
The following day I developed a rash in both my arms. I thought it was a dust allergy rash. Since we had seen that rash before, mother started treating it the same way. She would clean the warts before adding cream.
Over the course of the week, the rash got better. On the second week, I started feeling a mild pain on my left knee and my right elbow. I thought that I was overdoing it with the exercises, so, I stopped working out.
On August 21, something happened while I slept. I cannot say for certain what occurred. I woke up the following morning to find my left elbow swollen. The swelling started just over my elbow.
Since this was something new, mom went to my primary doctor to get some bloodwork done. The bloodwork claimed that I was as healthy as a horse. The only problem that I showed was a slight infection in my kidneys.
So, I got some antibiotics for that, and I was told to rest, and to drink plenty of water. The swelling progressed at an alarming rate. By Sunday the 27th, I had lost the ability to walk without assistance.
My arms had also become completely useless. We decided to wait another day to see if the antibiotics did their thing. In the morning, the swelling would go down, but at night, the swelling and the pain would return far stronger than before.
Based on the symptoms, I started to fancy that I was getting attacked by a vampire. This would explain to me why I would get worse at night. During the weekend, I slept in my mother’s bed. Mom and brother searched my bed for bedbugs or spiders.
They searched for anything that could explain the swelling in my arms. On Monday the 28th, I awoke feeling a little better. Even the swelling had gone down somewhat. Alas, when night fell, the swelling came back even worse.
So, I was rushed to the hospital. This is the story of how I got this way. My story didn’t provide the doctors or nurses the answers that they were looking for. So, they continued with the current treatment.
My mom stayed with me during the entire duration of my illness. My brother spent a good portion of the time with me, but mother would order him to return home to rest. My mother also helped me shower and clean myself.
The swelling in the arms made it difficult for me to take care of my basic necessities. She also spoon fed me. On Thursday the 29th, I started to get make peace with my current situation.
I didn’t know how long I was going to stay there. My brother putted on the TV for me. Every so often, the nurses would check up on me. Cecile was specially nice to me. She would call me pumpkin. She told me how to prepare myself to get my blood drawn.
On September 30th, the doctors decided to get me started on the steroids to help reduce the swelling in my arms. I also got a visit from a priest. The day before a woman had asked me if I wanted to receive the host.
It was nice that the Catholic Priest was able to oblige in such short notice. Since I wasn’t in the mood to confess my sins, we skipped straight to the mass. After a short service, I was able to get the host.
After I received the host, things started to finally improve. The nurses gave me my first short of steroids. The host combined with the steroids and antibiotics did the trick.
The swelling started to go down significantly. It was a good thing that I got the steroids when I did. The swelling had reached my hands. With the steroids, it started to get pushed back.
The downside is that the steroids made me hypervigilant. The arm that had the needle for the antibiotics was starting to stiffen. I had to keep it straight. If I bent the arm, the needle would pierce deeply into my vein causing it to bleed.
I know because I bent it once by accident. I was half asleep, when my arm bent. It was pretty scary, but the nurse told me that it was fine. She checked to make certain that the needle was still working the way it should.
Since all was well, I was able to continue with my treatment. On Friday, I was moved to a new room. The danger was passing. The doctor even spoke about releasing me on Saturday. Once again, I got more antibiotics and steroids. By now, the swelling had gone down significantly.
The pain in my legs had also subsided. I was slowly reclaiming my mobility. The promised day eventually came. I was given a final course of antibiotics, just to be safe.
I was discharged by Doctor Daniel Lopez. He was the last doctor mom spoke to. He told me that I needed to be weened out of the steroids. I couldn’t just leave them cold turkey because it could shock my system.
Mom was given a long list of instructions on how to ween me from the steroids. The nurse took my vitals one last time before releasing my left arm. After having my left arm stretched out for days, it felt super stiff.
I was wheeled out of the hospital by two volunteers. They too asked for my story. I sat for a bit in the waiting room for mother to pick me up. My brother stayed with me keeping me company.
A nurse came to me with a set of instructions, as well as the prescription for my steroids. With all that paperwork out of the way, I was finally able to return home. I entered the hospital in a wheelchair. I left it standing on my own two feet.
As I write this, I can honestly say that I feel alright. There is no more swelling in any of my limbs. There is no more pain. There is no more fever. I have regained complete usage of both my arms.
As an artist type, it was quite stressful not to be able to use my hands for anything. I wrote this long tirade about my experience as a coping mechanism. I didn’t want to write about it, but I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about the experience.
So, I decided to just write everything down, as I remember it. I want to thank all the nurses, doctors, volunteers, janitors, the priest and the cook of Baptist Hospital. I wouldn’t be sitting here writing this if they hadn’t cured me of what ailed me.