So, the day after my drains were removed, the remaining drain’s contents took a turn for the worse – incredible increase in volume, and by day’s end on Thursday had taken on a cloudy appearance with an off-colour (as opposed to the clear yellow from before).
That’s also when my pain level started to increase – not good, since I was out of Tylenol 3’s – so a frantic call to my GP to PLEASE break her own rule of “must see patient first”. She was in total agreement – but the pharmacy screwed up and I didn’t have the meds for Thursday night.
Friday I just felt that everything was getting tighter and tighter, and hurt so much more. I kept asking Vince to confirm things weren’t leaking or redness starting, or even just to feel the temperature of the skin. He kept telling me everything looked fine.
And then the contents of the drain reached new levels of putrid.
I did what I was supposed to do. I called my surgeon’s office first (that was in the morning). By the time the assistant got back to me at 2 p.m., guess what? All doctors gone for day (long weekend anyone?). She had discussed my message with him. The focus of her discussion? The increase in volume, which I had noted in my message was expected, but my concern was for the consistency of the drainage. But she didn’t discuss that with him. So I was no further ahead. Also, the assistant noted that my substitute surgeon was going to be on call at Royal Jubilee Hospital for the weekend.
So I did what I was supposed to do if the surgeon wasn’t available, I called my GP. Hmm. Gone for day at 2:30 p.m. Seeing a pattern here?
Friday night was so awful, even with pain medication, that I woke up knowing that Dr. R was at Jubilee, on-call, so off to the hospital’s Emergency Vince and I went at 7 a.m.
I did get to see Dr. R after waiting 4 hours, but at least I was given a stretcher to lie down on in Triage for the duration, otherwise would never have lasted that long! Dr. R said everything looked 100% normal for my recovery (agreeing with Vince’s observations), but agreed that the drainage was not what should be happening. A nurse emptied my bauble to have the contents cultured and the doc gave me a prescription for antibiotics and sent me on my way. [Have I mentioned I’ve been calling my drains “baubles”? At the moment, they’ve been the only “jewellry” I’ve had on. Hence the name. Such a warped humour I have.]
By the time I hit bed last night, I’d had two doses of antibiotics. Combined with pain med, tamoxifen and gravol, is it any wonder that I slept so friggin well last night?! Actually, I know the antibiotics have worked, because the pain level has returned to a 2 or 3 (0-10, 10 being the worst) – at the height of my crisis, I was saying 8.5, 9 as my pain level. I woke up comfortable, nothing pinching or tight. And while the drainage is still cloudy, the colour and overall appearance has started to improve.
Vince, the ever-loving and thinking husband that he is, commented that I’ll be fine until the next drain comes out. Sigh. I fear he’s right. My body just doesn’t like 2 to 4 inches of plastic tubing rudely yanked out of it.