The Bedsore Saga - Chapter 38

When last we visited Pat's rear end, there was one remaining bedsore measuring 1.1 x 2.2. This was cause for wound care training for Phil as well as cause for arranging a visiting nurse to come to my apartment daily to change the dressing. This was much ado about one scab.

Last night, the night nurse, who I really like, said she would change the dressing and she literally scoffed at it, scoffed at its size and told me when I go home to just put some bacitracin (similar to neosporin) on it. She said to keep it clean (yes, I take a shower every day), dry it after the shower (Ok, good advice) and then put the antiseptic cream on it. That's it. She also said it's totally "dry" meaning it's a scab.

When I mentioned that to the day nurse, the one who trained Phil, she was appalled. The judge and jury is going to be the wound care doctor who comes on Thursdays. I am going to explicity ask what the course of treatment is.

I do not object to having a visiting nurse, although I have to admit I have an old fashioned view of some old white lady with a navy cape, sitting by my bedside and knitting while she occasionally pats my fevered forehead with a cool cloth or something. I am wondering, seriously, what she could do for me -- go out for Chinese food?

I don't know what PT help I'll get at home. but yesterday I was taught "standing tall" exercises which basically means stretching, marching in place (oh yeah, very cool looking), etc.