My Foot

This wasn’t much of a break, but that’s okay.

I have a blood clot/phlebitis/issue in my right foot. It’s been hurting since last Wednesday, it got worse a few days ago, and yesterday it hurt a lot more and the symptoms were distinct enough to indicate something abnormal.

It is pretty painful. It’s a throbbing aching pain which is worse if I move around fast, put weight on it, take a warm/hottish shower, or elevate it... Thank God for ibuprofen.

I looked up info on blood clots and read all kinds of stuff, took it all with a grain of salt, but hoped I would go to sleep last night and wake up at Home... I’m still here.

Anyway, a nice hospice nurse came out this morning. She checked it all out and then spoke with my supervising nurse practitioner who has put me on an antibiotic in case it’s an infection and on aspirin to thin my blood. It should improve within 48 hours, if not, I’ll probably get stronger blood thinners.

Apparently blood clots are common in cancer patients. The nice nurse told me why but I’m not going to try to paraphrase what she said because I don’t want to misrepresent her.

It was interesting when she asked me how aggressive I wanted to be with treatment. She explained that some people want to be very aggressive because they’re afraid, if it’s a clot, that it will come loose and go to their brain, lungs, or heart and kill them. I told her, A. I was hoping that would happen last night because I’m way past ready to go Home and, B. I have two goals for treatment: 1. I want relief from the pain. 2. I don’t want my toes or foot rotting off from gangrene, that “death” is welcome but that being incapacitated is not. She didn’t bat an eyelash.

Meanwhile, Dresden has been very needy and anxious for the last several days. This is what she did this morning with the five empty six packs from the pansies and violas that I just planted yesterday...

Inspecting her handiwork...

Peace, Martha