When Life Brings You to Your Knees: Caring for My Husband Through a Medical Nightmare

From ER visits to emergency surgery—why I've had to put my lipedema work on hold

Mike, who absolutely loves everything Sasquatch, enjoying a Bigfoot donut gifted by our neighbors for his birthday.

I’ve been MIA from my lipedema work for much of the month, and I apologize. After recovering from my illness at the beginning of the month, my world got worse.

Last weekend, my husband, Mike, started having severe back pain. It was so bad he couldn’t walk. He also had a fever, so I took him to the emergency room. He was nose swabbed for COVID/Flu/RSV and was positive for RSV. However, that didn’t explain his back pain. He was pumped full of pain meds and then sent home.

The next night, he woke up in horrible pain; it was so bad that he couldn’t get out of bed. I called 911, and they took him back to the ED. Again, they pumped him full of meds and sent him home.

The third night, he woke me up and told me he needed to go to the ED again. This made it three nights in a row, and when we got to the ED, they finally decided to admit him to the hospital and do an MRI.

My typically stoic, very healthy husband lay there writhing and moaning in the hospital bed. He was running a fever of 101.8, needed 3 Liters of oxygen, and his labwork was off the charts with his white blood count and his kidney counts. He also had an infection in his blood.

His MRI showed he had an osteomyelitis in his spine with four bulging discs and needed emergency surgery.

We still had to wait another 18 hours, and as his body slowly decompensated, I prayed that he’d make it to surgery before his body completely shut down.

I’ve never been so scared in my life.

By the time he got to the operating room, his fever was at 102, he was delirious, and he had that smell. The smell that a nurse recognizes when someone is very sick and dying.

Even his surgeon said he looked like death. But he also reassured me that Mike would be a new person after surgery. They would be working on four levels of decompressing his spine and cleaning out the infection, and that relief would reverse his pain.

That surgery was last Wednesday, and since then it’s been a long journey of ups and downs.

He improved after surgery. His fever came down, his labs started to correct themselves, and he finally stopped taking oxygen.

But his pain…it has been not easy to manage.

He would still go into pain crisis, and no amount of IV Dilaudid could get him out of it.

Last Friday morning, I woke up at 3 am to banging on my front door.

It was my daughter. Mike had called her because he couldn’t get through to me. He was in so much pain that he said he wasn’t able to make decisions for himself.

I didn’t know what that meant exactly. Was he crumping and needed to make a life-and-death decision? Did he need to go in for another emergency surgery?

I asked, but he didn’t elaborate; he just begged me to come.

I rushed to the hospital and started directing care for him. Fortunately, he didn’t need surgery or life-saving care. But he was so delirious that he couldn’t answer questions. I helped him work to get his pain under control and talked with the doctors and nurses to make sure we weren’t missing anything.

Friday was my breaking point. I’d been on high alert for a week, and his condition didn’t seem to be getting better. It was getting to the point where we were both in tears over this non-ending torture.

However, yesterday (Saturday), he started feeling a little better. He still lives with a 6/10 pain, but at least he isn’t thrashing and moaning in bed.

He will need long-term IV antibiotic therapy through home infusion. He will need to remain in the hospital until his pain is well-controlled with oral medication and he gets set up with home care.

Today is Sunday, and I sit here wondering how this week will go.

I’m supposed to fly to Atlanta on Wednesday for the FDRS conference. I’m really stressed about this.

I’m supposed to speak at the conference, but I haven’t practiced my presentation at all. I feel woefully underprepared. I am also hesitant to fly across the country while Mike is still not fully recovered. He has a very large family, and we have many friends, so he will still be cared for if I leave for five days. But still, I’m not sure I can go and give it my all.

For now, I have had to put my lipedema work on the back burner until Mike is at least medically stable.

This man has been my caregiver through my liposuction surgeries and my knee replacement surgeries. He is the kindest and most compassionate person I know. He has been my rock through my lipedema treatment. I hope I can give back to him the love and care he’s given to me.

My husband, Mike, in good spirits. Get well soon, my love.