It’s almost like a fairy tale romance. For the past two months, my life has been consumed with my new little acquaintance named Pseudomonas. He has been my constant companion, day and night, night and day. He is always there for me in good times and bad, and in spite of my brutal attempts to eliminate him from my life.
I have heard him described as “vicious” and “nasty,” but apparently I can’t get enough of him. Truth be known, with a friendship like this, I don’t need enemies. So, if you consider yourself my enemy, you can stop now.
The doctors say that we were most likely introduced during a surgical procedure. I was asleep at the time, and have no recollection of that fateful moment, but it seems unfair that I am in a committed relationship that I had no choice in starting. When it’s all said and done, I’m hoping to collect alimony.
After weeks of antibiotics, both oral and IV, he is still hanging on. So, it was suggested that I start wearing a wound vac to try suctioning him out of my body, and hopefully close up the wounds that he has inflicted. Eegads! As much as I hate running the vacuum, I couldn’t imagine actually wearing one.
But for the next three weeks, I am strapped to a suction device that makes weird gassy noises. I wear it in a little backpack that reads “Happy Camper,” even though a happy camper I am not. I don’t know which I enjoy more — lugging the thing around all day, or sleeping perfectly still so that I won’t come unplugged from the wall at night.
Hubby is on an extended business trip (smart guy), and we have been communicating via Face Time. We were having a perfectly lovely, kind of romantic, face-to-face conversation when he suddenly began to snicker.