It has now been a week since the bite. I’ve been on two antibiotics for three days.
The village nurse has come each evening. She knows the house well. The owner of the house is a widow and the nurse cared for her late husband for about a year.
She knows Barney well. She can’t understand him biting me. Too gentle, too slow, too bizarre.
This morning I went in to another town, a different hospital to meet an orthopedic surgeon. He doesn’t like my hand. The swelling is down, my digits work fine, but the wound isn’t closing and the skin looks bad.
Thursday morning they will perform surgery to clean out the hand, look inside to see what is going on.
At 6:45 PM I met the anesthesiologist. He went over my history (Crohn’s, nine major surgeries, blah, blah), allergies. He says he wants to do a general. Less chance of spreading the infection systemically. He says he is ordering an EKG.
OK so now I am paying for a full operating suite, OR team, the whole nine yards. He says I will only be out ten or fifteen minutes and he guarantees a return trip.
And I have to pay him 28 euros cash for the consult.
See you Thursday.
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