Conservative Management

I had a visit from Dr. Karlen, an OB/GYN specialist, objective voice and second opinion today. He agreed with the infectious disease doc that my body seems to be responding well to the Tigecycline.

We all agree on conservative management, that is, since my body seems to be responding well, my white counts are good and I'm afebrile (no fever), surgery will not be necessary; they will continue to treat me with oral antibiotics...which means...

I can GO HOME!!!!


Two of my favorite people on 2 East: (from left) Kelly and Lauren

It's good because I've blown out my second vein since I came here this morning. If I never see another needle for the rest of my life, I will be a happy woman!

It's also good because maybe, just maybe....I can start training in a week or so. We'll see.

TTFN - happy girl!

Ride the Tiger

Which bags are bigger: those on the IV pole? Or those under my eyes?

Could I look any worse? Drained. Pale. My sister says I have "that sickly look." Thanks sis!

But inside, I'm fighting.


The Tiger in ancient Chinese represents dignity, ferocity, sternness, courage, and protection.

Qigong (pronounced Chee-gong) is a helpful tool for healing in ancient Chinese medicine. It incorporates movement, breathing, meditation and visualization to strengthen and heal the body. Qigong is said to stimulate the circulatory system, enhancing the elimination of wastes from the body, and the increased flow of lymphatic fluid improves the functioning of the immune system. Experts have found qigong can increase the amount of disease-fighting white blood cells, and improves the supply of oxygen to the body.

Several years ago, I learned a qigong guided imagery meditation used to promote healing called the Meditation of the Dragon and Tiger. Together, the dragon and the tiger represent yin and yang. In this visualization, one pictures literally swallowing a tiny tiger and a tiny dragon and watches as they move through the body, restoring balance and increasing vitality.

So what does all of this have to do with me?

I have been practicing this visualization technique since my admit to the hospital. Like the old Jefferson Starship song says, I wanna ride the tiger. Er, uh....Tigecycline.

And ride it out I do. Every 12 hours.



For an hour every 12 hours, I am connected to the tiny bolus of Tigecycline. And for that hour, I practice visualizing that tiny tiger moving through my veins.


Saline Hep-lock: allows quick IV access when needed, but allows me freedom to roam when I'm not receiving medicine

And, things appear to be working. I squint when I write that. Could it really be that easy?

Dr. Tan of infectious disease pushes on my abdomen.

"You don't seem to wince as much when I push," he says. "I think the Tygecil is working."

We can only hope. Until I know for sure, I'll keep riding the tiger - both of them!

Tigecycline: the tiger moving through my veins

The yellow tiger moving through my veins

Tigecycline, the powerful, bright yellow IV antibiotic that drips steadily from a little bolus through plastic tubes and into my veins, holds the key to my keeping my remaining ovary. I’m not sure if it was intended to conjure these images or if it’s because of my literal interpretations of language, but because of its name, and the powerful punch it delivers to abdominal infections, I picture a small tiger streaming into my blood stream ready to pounce. I picture its claws extended, its teeth barred, hear its snarls as it travels to this infection ready to rumble. I hold onto this image. I visualize the 4 cm pocket of infectious fluid surrounding my left ovary shrinking, defeated from the Tiger. It’s got to work. I can’t face another surgery. It’s got to work.

Yes, I'm back in the hospital. Abdominal pain and a low-grade temp prompted a visit to my doctor's ultrasound tech, which revealed the glowing mass of infection around my ovary. My only remaining ovary. And I don't want to lose it like I lost the other one. The treatment plan right now is to try to kick this with aggressive IV antibiotic therapy and a possibly ultrasound-guided needle drain in the back. No one wants cut me open again after what happened last time, including and most importantly, me.

My roommate is the most obnoxious, demanding and self-centered elderly woman ever made by God.

She calls out constantly, “Nurse!” every 30 seconds when she has to relieve herself – what she calls going “tinkle” – and she has to relieve herself every 20 minutes. Apparently she abuses the nurse call light so much that the nurses have started writing her pleads for assistance off, like the boy who cried wolf, so now she’s just decided to yell for them. And yell she does, starting before dawn at 6 a.m. when she soils herself.


Dawn breaking over the busy buildings of the hospital

Later, she takes to asking me to push my call light for her...as I’m puking my guts out. My nurse comes in to give me some Phenergan, and the elderly lady interrupts her to yell out, “help me!”

She’s happy to chat about her various illnesses and surgeries, and offers up odd information at random.

“I have a husband,” she says out of the blue.

“Okay, that’s nice,” says the nursing assistant who is awaiting the lovely task of wiping her up after her current tinkle.

When she’s all clean, she makes a phone call, I presume to her husband who I know from her random offering of information that she’s been married to for 57 years. She tells him how she’s being discharged today. She tells him the nurses don’t come when she calls, that they “giggle at her from the hallway.”

Being “sick” has become the elderly woman’s full-time job. At 78 years of age, it’s what she does with her life, and it contributes to the economy just like any job. This woman helps employ many people, from nurses to assistants to doctors and their secretaries; home health aides, Medicare claims adjustors, right down to the people who make the equipment all of those people use.

I wonder what she did with her life before she became sick and frail.