....I crawled into a wheelchair writhing in pain, able to sit only on the right side as my left burned with flames. Being in scrubs and a Smith Hospital coat got me admittance into their ER pretty quickly. Doctors take care of their own just like any other profession. The senior resident came in, examined it thoroughly throughout my screams and asked me what I wanted to do. I could have it drained by the surgery team in the OR, or they could drain it at bedside. Stupidly, I said, "I don't want a full work up. Just lance the thing and get me back on my feet." After all, I&D (incision and drainage) was the curative and definitive treatment for abscesses. Besides, I had to get back to work the next day. Well, the same day since it was already 1 am.
The attending strolled in a bit later, took a very brief look, saw me jump off the bed and said, "I'll take the resident's and your word at it. We'll get you set up here briefly."
I desperately needed something for pain. The doc again asked, "what do you want?" The nurse quickly gave it to me and it barely took the edge off. I asked for another dose when it came time to start sticking the lidocaine in my ass. I knew the lidocaine was going to hurt. I asked the doc if it was ok if I cussed a blue streak. He replied, "of course, it's the ER." What I did NOT expect was the incision of the scalpel to hurt so I let the expletives fly freely from my mouth...
IMAGINE NASTY, DISGUSTING PICTURES HERE (because I do have them but I won't post them for y'all's sake)
...as the pus and blood gushed out in substantial amounts. I'm screaming and trying to breathe through the pain while the ER doc apologizes. I think I may have yelled back at this point, "don't apologize, just open the damned thing up!" So he does. He appropriately warns me first and in go the hemostats to start blunt dissecting open any remaining deep pockets of pus. Imagine sticking closed blunt scissors into an already gaping wound and then jabbing them around while opening and closing them. The opening action bluntly dissects open any walled off areas. It's necessary to open everything or the I&D won't work. And he opens everything. By this time I'm hoping to just pass out from the pain. No such luck. And I thought the scalpel pain was bad. It feels like there are several poison tipped knives sticking out of my butt. He finally finishes and I weakly ask for some more pain medication as well as an anti-nausea med. Now I remember why surgery always did these in the OR under general anesthesia. They let it passively drain for a bit and make sure I'm ok before cleaning me up and sending me on my way. I foolishly forget to ask for more anti-nausea med when I get yet another dose of pain med for when the lidocaine wears off. My wife drives me home and I remember little, being in a stupor by this point. The next thing I know, I'm stumbling out of the car and bent over in my yard at 3 or 4 in the morning throwing up a lung.