Seriously Ill

It is frightening how quickly an infection can overwhelm a body. 3 weeks ago today I had what was thought to be a sore tooth; 24 hours later the swelling began. By the time I arrived in South Africa my head was swollen like a balloon and the pain was intense – like electric shocks coursing through me. The dentist (whom I saw still thinking this was a simple tooth problem) decided that he would wait to take action until the swelling went down. About 24 hours went by and I have very little memory of what happened. I can tell you that the pain was a living thing and I wanted only to escape from it. I know that I was sent to hospital and whisked into theatre (surgery). Doctors struggled to insert IV’s into my tiny, uncooperative veins and decided to put me under prior to getting them in to spare me the pain. This carried a great risk as my body was too far gone for the doctors to be confident of my survival. In fact, my guy tells me, I was declared dead at one point. After many days, I pulled through but my poor guy had to live all that time with such uncertainty. What was the cause of all this? My guy (and the doctors) tells me that an infection, most likely contracted from the Lagos water we showered in, had spread throughout my entire body. In simple but deadly terms, sepsis. Although I really have little (no) memory of anything after being taken to theatre I do clearly remember opening my eyes and seeing a beautiful male face inches above mine and he was saying (as he cradled my face in his hands) “My dear, my dear, how are you today?” My first thought was “I’m dead. Oh. But this isn’t quite what I was expecting. Not too bad, though.” Then the smells kicked in. Nope, not dead, I stink too much. Hasn’t anyone even wiped me off (they had but laying in a hospital bed for days, sweating, is going to leave a stink)? It was one of the team of doctors attending to me. He lifted me into a sitting position and began to probe my head, neck, and back. I wanted to hit him, the pain was so intense. He knew how I would react and gently moved away from each of my feeble attempts while continuing his probe. Then an odd thing began to happen. My head and neck began to contract and expand and my mouth filled with something that felt like barley soup (although the taste was horrifying). I was helped to the bathroom and bent over the sink and opened my mouth – well, parted my teeth about 1/8 of inch – and out came this stuff. It was some of the infection which had chosen my mouth as its exit point. It went for several minutes and Michael (as the doctor insisted we call him) was very pleased. My fever had broken and now, at last, the infection had found a way out. I was exhausted but anxious to do something. I realized that I was attached to IV’s (12 in all!) and poles and was a mess. My guy helped me to bathe and took me for a short walk to a courtyard where I sat for 2 hours trying to gain enough strength to walk back. I won’t go into the troubles I had with the night nurses and the anger of the doctors when I was finally able to tell them. I won’t tell you about the IV they dislodged and the damage it caused. I will tell you that after 5 days of intravenous antibiotics I was released from hospital but not allowed to leave South Africa. My guy was staying in a guesthouse and he took me there. It is impossible to describe the people there. Kind, loving, concerned, gentle, and compassionate are words that only begin to describe them. I was barely able to move on my own and couldn’t open my mouth enough to get anything in. The manager, Sonnike, and her husband, Ian, made soup for me and brought it to the room. It was probably a packet of cup-o-soup but it tasted like heaven. Why couldn’t I open my mouth? The sepsis caused trimus aka lockjaw. They took my guy to the store to buy yogurt and ginger ale for me. There were other guests, Silvia and Javier, who fussed over me like I was their own. My guy had to return to Lagos shortly after I was released from hospital and he was none too happy about it. He said to Ian, “I’m leaving her in your care.” And Ian took it as an oath to live by. He checked on me practically hourly, coaxed me down to the veranda to sit in the sun and drink coffee, tea or water. He shredded meat for me so that I could stuff it in my mouth and (painfully) swallow it down. They all took turns reminding to take my medicine and spending time with me so that I would be up and not just laying in bed. No one ever showed signs of repulsion when I ate (it was and still is an ugly sight). They helped me through every step of my days as I began to get some strength back. Each millimeter of progress with my mouth was met with congratulations and the day I slipped a toothbrush through my still clenched teeth and was able to do a little scrubbing they gave me a standing ovation! These strangers became family for me. I am so grateful to know them, so blessed to have them in my life. A week went by and I went to the doctors for follow-up appointments. It was astounding to see their reactions to me. It was the first time I realized how ill I had been and still was. One doctor blurted out “Oh, you look beautiful; I was prepared to put you back in hospital but just look at you!” They were in agreement that the crisis had passed but with a caveat: I was at great risk of re-infection and would have to continue antibiotics for a long period of time which carried a high risk of destroying organs, I would need physical therapy to regain use of my jaw and neck muscles and that I would be exhausted for at least 6 more weeks. They urged me to return to the US for rest and rehab. I have returned to our current home in Lagos to collect clothing and will go to the US in a few days. Exhaustion is a mild term for how I feel. The big event of each day is showering and dressing. Eating is still difficult as chewing hurts and is tiring. Every inch of my body aches. Infection is scary. I didn’t know it could spread so far so fast and do so much damage so quickly. I have a great chance at full recovery though. Thank God for bringing me through this so far!