![]() The results from the swab came back negative for viruses. Joe drops me off at home and goes to the pharmacy. ![]() I checked the time and realized we still had 45 minutes to get my antibiotics before the pharmacy closed. He prescribed me antibiotics and referred me to a hand specialist, then he took photos of my hand and got one of the nurses to take a swab and check for infections or viruses.ġ1:15 pm: We were finally out of the hospital. He seemed gentle and kind, which made me feel relieved. “Could be better?” I chuckled, “Yes.” I told him what happened as he examined my hand. A girl next door started wailing as she got injected with morphine.ġ0:00 pm: A doctor finally comes in to look at my hand. I waited, watching the nurses and doctors walk past me. Everything was closed except The Bagel Stop.ĩ:30 pm: They finally called my name and brought me to a room. Joe and I made our way to the empty food court. I let the nurse know that we’d go to the food court and come back. Joe and I sat down in the waiting room and realized we hadn’t eaten dinner. “Promise me you’ll go to the ER immediately.”ħ:30 pm: “It’ll be a three-hour wait,” said the receptionist at the hospital. He sounded alarmed and told me he saw the photos but didn’t want to prescribe antibiotics in case it was something else. The doctor from the After Hours Clinic finally called me back. “The doctor will call you back in an hour and a half,” she said.ħ:00 pm: My fingers were swollen, and my entire right hand started tingling as if I had just been burnt. A woman picked up the phone, and I told her I needed help right away. I told her I already contacted my doctor and couldn’t go to a walk-in clinic because the receptionist said they’d remove me from their list.ĥ:30 pm: I called the After Hours Clinic that was recommended by my family doctor’s receptionist. She told me the same thing: go to the walk-in clinic, talk to your family doctor, etc. I had a feeling the same pharmacist from earlier would still be there - and I was right. Otherwise, they’d remove me from their list of patients.Ĥ:00 pm: Going to the hospital was the last thing I wanted to do, but I also didn’t want to lose a family doctor (especially right now when getting one in Canada isn’t the easiest), so I went back to the pharmacy. One thing she made abundantly clear was that I couldn’t go to a walk-in clinic that isn’t associated with them. The receptionist said she saw the images I sent and recommended that I have someone take a look at my hand right away. I called my doctor’s office again, only to find out he was on vacation. I did a good job keeping it off my mind because I didn’t feel much pain at that point, but as soon as I got home and removed the bandages, the rashes got even worse. That same morning, I had planned to meet a friend for coffee, so I wrapped my fingers using the new bandages and left the house. I contacted my family doctor as soon as I got home but didn’t hear anything back. I ended up buying bandages, thinking it’d help since it didn’t require taping something directly onto my skin. The pharmacist assessed my hand and said I had to see a doctor because it was too severe for her to give me anything. I’d get my medication and rest, and my hand would heal in no time. This shouldn’t take too long, I thought. Joe and I walked to the nearest pharmacy, hoping I could get an antibiotic prescription. Luckily, I had just renewed my expired health card. I knew right there and then that it wasn’t something I could ignore anymore. I started to develop painful rashes all over my hand. Eventually, I knocked my hand while making food and began to bleed. I quickly applied a thin layer of antibiotic ointment, wrapped it with a bandaid, took a Tylenol, and called it a night.Īs the days went by, I started to get a bad reaction from the bandaid, making my skin soft and susceptible to cuts. It will eventually go away, I thought.Ī few hours later, what I thought was a callus turned into a cyst that swelled up and made my arm heavy and red. The following day, as I was writing my morning pages, I got a callus on my index finger, which I guessed was a result of writing too much. I’ve always been prone to getting bug bites and cuts, so I didn’t pay much attention to it. It started on August 24th when I thought I got bit by some insect on my middle finger.
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