I wanted to give myself the best possible chance to heal from the last operation, so we enlisted the help of the district nurse to come and regularly change the bandage and make sure all was going well. Over the weekend things were looking good, drying up nicely which we wanted.
When the district nurse came on the 9th of November things weren’t good again, there was a slight leak and the wound wasn’t dry. The infection had returned. Not as bad as the first time but it was there. Over the next week we tried different bandages to help clear up the infection, we tried some some silver dressings as some infections cannot live on silver, we tried everything, it didn’t seem to be helping. Whatever we tried the infection was persistent.
On the 17th of November, I was back down to Coventry to get it checked out and have my stitches out, when my surgeon saw it he was devastated, disappointed it hadn’t worked. He wanted there and then to admit me and operate again, to clean it all out and try again. My heart sank, this is not what I wanted. He also said if another clean out doesn’t work then the metal work would have to come out. Again something that I didn’t want. The thought of a possible two operations didn’t do my mind very good, it was getting harder and harder to stay positive the more negative news I received. We came to an agreement where we would give it another week, if in a week there was no change then he would open the wound up in order to to give it a deep clean or if he sought fit remove the metal work as the infection could have been hiding behind the metal..
That week, as much as I hoped it would clear up, it didn’t and I was going back down to Coventry. The surgeon took one look and said that he’d put me in the queue for a deep clean out and if needed he would take the metal work back out.
It was the same procedure, a lot of waiting around until my name was called. When I was called, I got changed into my hospital gown in the bathroom, put on my stockings and walked down with the anethatists, its funny the last two times I was in a bed and now I was walking down like nothing was wrong. It wasn’t long until they drifted me off again and hopefully wake up and it would be all sorted. It’s weirdly a nice feeling being put to sleep, knowing that you will wake up and that they have done what they need to do and you don’t know anything about it, I suppose especially this time as I didn’t know whether the metal work would be removed or if they would just clean it out again.
I woke up in theatre looking up at the lights, I had two people sat with me and i can remember saying “well this is different”. I’d always woken up on the recovery ward, turns out the wards were full so they had to keep me in the theatre room.
Asking what they had done, they told me they went down as far as the metal work and felt no need to take the metal work out, they had found a bit of a cavity where the fluid was gathering and leaking out so they used antibiotic powder and then layered the tissue up, they also put a drain into my back to get any access fluid out. I was relieved, I just hoped this would do the trick.
Arriving back on the ward into my bay, I thought that this could be the proper start to my recovery..