July 15th, 2005


Well, damn.

I hadn't said anything yesterday since I was hoping it'd turn out to be nothing at all. But yesterday at one point, my mother called me out because she had a big hunk of dried-out skin that had mostly shed from her foot, and she needed it cut off (I know, sounds gross, sorry). When I went out to have a look, I noticed that the rest of the loose skin looked like it had... sticky whiteness underneath, not very good. So I immediately told her I didn't like it, it looked infected.

I kinda wished I could take back the words after I said them, since I didn't want to send her into a panic, but at the same time I wanted her to have it looked at ASAP, since she's a) diabetic and has bad circulation and has very limited healing in her extremities, and b) since she lost the other foot this way just below the knee, and thus has only this one leg left already.

So long story short, she called her foot doctor (he's over an hour's drive away, which precludes just dashing in to see him at the drop of a hat), and got an emergency appointment squeezed in for this morning. They just got back, and apparently the foot is in fact infected. He cut off a ton of the skin, and "badness," etc., and she's to go on an antibiotic, change the dressings twice a day, etc. And she's to watch for any red streaks, and go to the hospital immediately if she sees one.

I've given her what very little comfort I could, telling her that if the doctor thought it was that bad, he'd have just sent her straight in to the hospital, and not home. And that he'd give her the warnings about staying off her foot, and put her on medication pretty much regardless, at this point, even if he thought it was minor. Now I'm just trying to convince myself of the same thing.

So now she's obviously upset, and worried, and I'm not exactly in a peachy mood either. Plus now I get to go through the cycle of guilt-feeling when she's upset and saying things like "why does this kind of thing only happen to me?" and I have to hold back from pointing out that my uncle's in the process of slowly dying at the moment, and that the state of her foot directly affects my father and I as well, since we're her caretakers... and then I feel guilty for even thinking that sort of thing and feeling self-pity when really, she is going through a hell of a lot more than she should be.

I'm just crossing my fingers and really strongly hoping it heals up smoothly, and quickly. This is one case where I was really hoping that I was overreacting, and just plain wrong, when I saw what her foot looked like.
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