Hi everyone,

First of all, I want to thank everyone who sent cards, pictures,
greetings, and a certain stuffed cat to my hospital room.  They
all made survival possible.

First of all, the doctors think I was bitten by a brown recluse
or other poisonous spider.  Whatever it was, I developed a flesh
eating bacteria that basically changed the shape of my nether
regions for ever.  I'm almost recovered now, but I have been told
that I was going into septic shock by the time Mike and Mandy got
me to the ER at Womack Army Medical Center (WAMC) here in
Fayetteville.  In less than an hour after arriving there I had
gone from triage to the operating room where I was lectured for a
long time by an anesthesiologist about not taking care of my
diabetes.  I couldn't say much, I hadn't been able to afford the
doctor's visits and hadn't been getting my medications renewed as
a result.

The next thing I remember is Mike, his best friend Jason, and Rob
being there when they were transferring me to the ICU Step-down
unit, which had been opened up shortly before.  The ICU Step-down
is for those who are seriously ill, but not enough that they need
constant monitoring.  I still had my own "nurse" and was on
constant monitoring, but I was able to have some "freedom" that
ICU doesn't have.  I was taken to the operating room twice a week
for debridement and re-placing of the wound vacuum system that
was in place.  I joked with the nurses about Suz's signature "I
am Borg of dyslexia.  Your a.s will be laminated."  The stuff
they use to keep the vacuum pressure on the wound is exactly the
same as laminating plastic.  Seriously.  I can honestly say that
my tush was laminated.

I received excellent medical care while in the hospital, except
that the kitchens and I could never agree about what food was
suitable for someone not from North Carolina and with diabetes.
I refused to eat greens, pears (hate the things), fish, "steamed"
(read mushy) vegetables, boiled chicken, and many of the other
things they tried to poison me with.  I never realized how truly
picky I am about food until I was subjected to someone else's
food preferences.  Strangely, I find I like "Egg Beaters" egg
substitute, so long as they use salt when scrambling it.  I'm
told that most people hate the stuff, but eat it because they
have to.

Anyway, I spent a great deal of time sleeping.  I only read four
books in a month's time and this is strange for someone who
normally averaged a book a day when not doing anything else.  I
also did a lot of thinking.  I was on a morphine drip for a long
time, then on dialaud (I think) then on percocet then tylenol
after I got home.  I discovered that time and space perceptions
distort when one is on those things.

One of the funny things was that I was not sleeping well, until
the postman brought in a package from Julie.  One of the nurses
helped me open it up and TA-DA I had my very own and legal cat to
purr, sleep, and keep me company.  Wamcee, as we named her,
helped me get through some really tough and painful times.
Especially after the skin graft on my right leg was done.  Even
now, that area still is painful, mostly because nerves are still
growing back.  It's like a form of carbonated pain, tingly and
fizzy and enough to make one's leg spasm.  It was really rough at
times and I made it through it with morphine, an MP3 player and
stroking Wamcee.  Thanks Julie, you'll never know how much you
helped me make it through the dark times.

Of course Julie wasn't the only one who helped me through the
hard times.  Leah (I hope I got that right) was there at all
times of the day and night.  I remember keeping her up until
after 2 am, my time, talking me through until my next dilaud
pill.  I finally got to sleep that night, mainly because Leah is
so sane and able to send humor and sanity over the phone line.
If it weren't for Julie, my MIL, Helen M, Yowie, and those others
who braved the tangled up phone system for WAMC in order to keep
me knowing that people knew and cared that I was ill, I don't
know how I would have made it.

Last, but not least, all of you who brightened my day, amazed my
medical persons, and impressed us all by sending get well cards
and wishes; thank you.  I have them all, even those that arrived
after I got out of purgatory.  The charge nurse at the ICU
Step-down called and let us know that there were a bunch of cards
waiting for me.  We picked them up when I went in the next day
for a check and re-bandaging of my "wound."  The wound runs from
the front of my groin around to the back of my tush and has been
called a soda can deep divot.  Gross and TMI, I guess.

Where we stand now.

I have only a small place on the inside of my thigh that hasn't
fully healed.  This requires a light bandage, mainly to keep the
area clean and dry.  Rob has impressed the nursing staff at
General Surgery with his abilities in re-bandaging, so he gets
the honors.  I do not have to go in to see the surgery people
until around the 19th when the surgeon wants to check and make
sure that everything is still fine.

Best of all, Rob went in for a regularly scheduled MRI on June
28th and the tumors that were biopsied have not grown since
February.  Either the chemo treatments are working, or the many
purrs have slowed or stopped the growth, or something miraculous
has happened.  He still is having increasing problems with his
memory, some behaviors that are a little questionable, and some
temperament, but he's doing pretty good.  We've made it this far
and are now looking at Rob's father's birthday on August 3 as our
next goal.  His six month diagnosis anniversary is on August 15.
If he is still doing good, we're going to celebrate.

Now for the masters.  It took several days for them to accept me
back from the hospital.  Wamcee was not very popular with the
owners, though everyone except Tanada has figured out that she's
not really breathing.  Tanada still growls and hisses at Wamcee
and has decided that she, Wamcee, is now the lowest cat in the
pecking order.  This puts Tanada up a notch and she is very happy
about that.  The other cats think Tanada is nuts, but let her do
her hissing in peace.  Mike's owner, Qui Gun Kit, has taken to
dumping everything he can off my night stand.  Each morning one
of us has to pick everything up.  I still cannot reach down and
get anything off of the floor, so Mike usually gets the job.
Huey, Sonya, Merlin, and QC usually sleep with Rob and me, so our
bed is often crowded.  Huey still loves to climb under the covers
and snuggle up to Rob.  I don't know why, as Rob seems to have no
problems with producing methane.  When he isn't doing that, he
often sleeps on my head, as do QC, Merlin, and Tanada.  I'm
getting used to having a hot headache at night.

Anyway, for you newbies who are wondering why I'm posting all
this stuff.  I'm Pam S. in North Carolina.  I am owned by 1
medically retired army husband, 3 adult children-two of whom are
still living with us, and 7 cats: Tanada (black and white grouchy
old womancat), QC (tabby Maine Coon mix of mellow), Merlin (gray
tabby and white blob of a gentlecat), Pine Cone (white and
brownish gray tabby bad boy with an attitude), Huey (White and
pumpkin colored love muffin), Sonya (gray and white tuxedo shy
girl), and Qui Gun Kit (black and white oreo with a pranksters
soul and a lot of willingness to use it).  Oh, last but not
least, one d-thing also known as Speedy a husky/shepherd/Bast
knows what cross, that seems to think he's a cat.  I once caught
him digging a hole to go to the bathroom in.

Pam S.