Hospital Nightmare

"Beep! Beep! Beep!"

That damned monitor wouldn't stop beeping! It had been three days since I got admitted and that sound just wouldn't cease. I felt the need to roll over in bed but couldn't because of all the tubes and wires. The overly firm mattress allowed me no sleep. The curtain remained closed, as the nurses had left it. Dozens of monitors and machines surrounded my bed. I brushed aside the blankets and looked at my right foot, all swollen. It hurt like hell, too. What was wrong with it?

Almost on cue, a doctor entered the darkened room and switched on the light. I had to close my eyes, as they could not adjust.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Dixon. I heard you came in because your foot hurts, correct?" As I opened my eyes I saw him peer down his glasses at me with a frown.

"Yes, four days ago I couldn't put my weight on it. Now it's turning red and black."

"Let me take a look," said Dr. Dixon. "Hmmm.... that cut on your foot looks infected, and the flesh around it is dying. Looks like a case of necrotizing fasciitis."

"Necrating what? What the hell is that?" My eyes widened and my pulse quickened.

"A flesh-eating bacteria is infecting your tissue and causing it to die." I could tell by his words and the tone of his voice that I was in trouble.

"What are you going to... do about it?" I asked.

"It's advanced to the point that all we can do is... amputate your foot."

Me? An amputee? This couldn't be happening! "You must be screwing with me!" I sat up straight in bed, my mouth agape at this reality.

"I'm not. If we don't amputate it today, you will die." He put his hand on my shoulder. "Your family would hate to lose you."

"I'd rather go than spend the next forty years with only one foot!" Tears formed in my eyes. "But I can't leave my partner to raise the children alone..."

Dr.Dixon handed me some papers. "Do you consent to the procedure?"

I stared at the papers. I preferred to go and be free of pain and trauma, but I couldn't leave my partner as a single parent. It just wasn't fair. None of this was fair. All this hell over a cut on my foot? When 99.99% of cuts are harmless?

With a heavy sigh I signed the papers and consented. Dr. Dixon collected them with the words, "The nurse will be with you shortly to prep you for surgery."

Soon the nurse came in and stuck an IV in my hand. She put a hair net over my head and wheeled me into the operating room. As I looked up at her face I felt a stinging in my hand as the anesthesia entered my body through the IV. My eyelids rolled back and closed but I could still hear the team talking. I could still feel the pain from the IV.

"Patient is out," said the nurse.

"Good. Let's begin," said Dr. Dixon.

"No! I'm not out yet!" I tried to cry out but no sound formed in my throat. I heard a saw buzzing before my foot felt an excruciating pain. It was unlike anything I had ever felt before. I didn't even realize it's possible to be in so much agony. "Stop it! Now!" I screamed, but the team heard nothing.

After what felt like millennia, they finished and wrapped my ankle in a bandage. I couldn't open my eyes for another couple hours. I looked down at my missing foot and sobbed. So began my new reality...

Reference: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Necrotizing_fasciitis