Alarm Bells in my Head

From February 18, 2009 until about April 1, 2009 everything was going well. I was once again living my life without a wound dictating when I could go out. I was enjoying time with my friends and family and I thought that pressure sores, wound care and bed rest were things of the past.

As I had vowed to myself, I was no longer sitting in the same positions for long periods of time. I was also not using my bed for anything other than sleeping, doing everything I could to prevent another wound from forming. Despite my best efforts, another wound was discovered on April 1, 2009. Yep, on April Fools Day I found myself in my doctor's office being told that it had happened again and that I would need to do the same thing I had just done three months prior.

That meant that just as I was getting my life back to normal I yet again had to go on bed rest and have visiting nurses in my home on a regular basis. While I was very upset that this had happened again I wasn't too worried about it being that the first one had healed rather quickly. When my doctor asked me which nursing agency had handled my case initially I told her without hesitation. We called them and made arrangements for them to resume my care.

That wound started out rather small and we initially were just doing the same type of dressings that had healed me previously. Despite that it was working and the wound was getting smaller and smaller one of the nurses decided to change our methods.

The nurse that decided to change what we were doing, was one that upon meeting her for the very first time gave me a weird feeling. While she was fine at changing the wound dressings I found her personality to kind of conflict with mine. While I don't mind it when people talk to me about their personal business I did sort of feel more like her psychologist rather than her patient. Instead of listening to those alarm bells that were beginning to ring in my head I continued to allow that nurse to be the one that was generally in charge of my care. I would later realize that would be one of the worst decisions of my life.