Don’t search the internet, again, my medical motto. They are going to install a Wound Vac on Tuesday. Nancy, the nurse, is very excited about this. She has probably had a dozen visits with me, and the wound is back at its deepest number. It’s at just less than seven centimeters.
Without a lot of phone calls and a lot of medical insurance drama (from their end, as it was easy from mine), it arrived at the house. Really, I know nothing more.
Wound vac, the name is somewhat self-explanatory. The internet is frightening.
In my limited fall, clicking around for info, one of the unasked questions that popped up on google was “does it hurt?” “The dressing changes are particularly painful.” Sigh. I didn’t search it, but I saw it.
“Average timeline: Between five and seven weeks, there should be improvement.” “The Vac should remain plugged in for all but four half hour blocks per day.”
I am praying that this is all worst case scenario. I am looking around me. There is an enormous project half done in the living room. Out the back way, cases of tie dye supplies are in action. Bad timing. I hate “incomplete”. Is this going to be another spiritual lesson?
And should we talk about regenerating my connection to the Borg? Plugged in to a wall socket 22 hours a day. I hope it’s just a google lie.
Don’t search the internet.
micheleplumbstowell.org 