More On Heroin Medical Consequences

Medical Consequences

Don't get me wrong, heroin has done a lot for me. It got me on a first-name basis with the trauma surgeon and I have met a lot of cool nurses. Anyone of us could die at any moment. I should have died in January 2004. After waking up paralyzed in a heroin flop house, I laid on the floor for nearly three days before my peers decided to take me to the hospital a couple of blocks away. Begging for a catheter because of my inability to urinate, they informed me I was having kidney failure, later tests revealed it was because of sepsis which is poisoning of the blood. The two abscesses from my heroin use had gained access to my blood stream. The doctor informed me that my condition was very grave and they transported me to another hospital where I underwent surgery and spent the next several days in intensive care on a full spectrum of antibiotics. I spent the next three months in the hospital recovering from my massive wounds and a myriad of related health issues. After skin graphs and therapy for my nerve damage I was released only to start using heroin within two weeks. I was rescued by God and I am convinced that I am only alive to give glory to HIM! Below is a detailed account of My Hospital Stay.

Last Hopital Visit Before This

The first time I met Dr Alexander Moskovitz, the trauma surgeon for the Everett Providence Hospital, was when I developed my fourth major abscess, the third one that required an operation. This surgery stuff started to become routine causing me to be desensitized to the seriousness of the way I was living. There was a huge area of redness about the size of one fourth of a soccer ball, the top part appearing. It was convex and was located on my right flank area. This was very painful and like the others in the past, extremely hard for me to move about. This made my job driving for the drug dealers difficult since I had to climb in and out of the car and do some walking. With abscesses, it’s common to have a fever. This time my fever was around 102° Fahrenheit. I put off going into the hospital as long as I could. Many junkies treat themselves or have someone else help them. In my case, just like in times past, the abscess grew in circumference and depth instead of coming to a head like a pimple; this prevented me or someone else from lancing it (not that I would have). This was far beyond home remedies. Dr. Moskovitz operated and had to cut into my flank in several places, leaving these rubber tubes called Penrose™ drains to help in the drainage. I was told the usual, the importance of changing and caring for the wounds and keeping them clean. It was difficult, but with the help of a fellow junkie friend, she helped me do a satisfactory job. These wounds left big ugly scars as if I was horse whipped or something. Then again, I guess I was. In one of Dr. Moskovitz’s reports he refers to me as a “wandering historian” which possibly refers to the difficulty getting reliable medical information on me.

Turn of Events

One night, I went to sleep in a living room chair and when I awoke the next day, I couldn’t move my legs. Paralyzed from about my waste down, I couldn’t even light a cigarette because my fingers wouldn’t function either. No doubt, this was scary, however I reasoned that it must be from sleeping cramped in a chair and that I would soon gain back my feeling when whatever I was pinching off got straighten out. I thought it was nothing more than my legs “going to sleep”. By the end of the day when I wasn’t any better but worse, I told everyone in the house that if it didn’t get better by tomorrow, I would go have it checked out. At the time there were about seven people staying there not counting myself. This included a little boy about five years old. Incidentally, a man died in that house less than a year later. They helped by getting me on to the floor and I ended up laying there the next several days. My friend Bill was keeping me well, and some of the others would wait on me. I couldn’t pee and I was thirsty during this time. Little did I know I was dying. I did notice a red lump that had been developing in my upper right leg over the last week or so. I never thought it was causing what I was experiencing, misjudging its potential danger by past abscesses. I thought the paralysis was a back problem since I’ve had disc and other back trouble in the past. Finally, the other addicts there decided they had better do something (Thank God).

Taken To Emergency Room

Bill and Shawn went up to the hospital a few blocks away and brought back a wheel chair. I couldn’t get in the thing; Barb helped me get a clean shirt on and as she was trying to get my arm through the sleeve, without warning this lemon sized abscess popped. The best I could tell it was in my armpit area. During the preceding weeks, I had shot up in this area of my right shoulder where my arm met my chest. When using this site to inject I found I could hit a vein without all the ritual that is involved when normally trying to shoot into a vein. I called this, “my sweet spot” and with arrogance bragged about it instead of being ashamed of the way I was treating my body. It was strange, I hadn’t noticed any lump before, it didn’t hurt, and when it spurted out, I wouldn’t have noticed it then, except that it was all over. I don’t remember it smelling. Man, was I in bad shape. They finally got me into the wheelchair and pushed me up the street. Shawn was having a difficult time pushing me because I couldn’t keep my legs raised up high enough and they kept dragging on the ground stopping us. He had to pull me backwards so my legs would drag behind, instead of being caught under the wheels. Bill went on ahead to let them know they were bringing me in. It was only about five blocks, but it seemed like it took us forever to get there. Being January, it was freezing; along with a wind coming up off Puget Sound, I was miserable. When I got into the lobby, I must have started to fade out, because I hardly remember what happened next. I do remember complaining how thirsty I was and that I couldn’t pee. I was begging them to put in a catheter, as bad of an experience that is for males.
Emergency Doctor's Report PDF

Admitted to Hospital

The next thing I was aware of was that I was in a bed somewhere and a nurse came back after she put the catheter in and informed me that I was having kidney failure. I don’t recall worrying or asking questions, I just faded out again. I did mention that I knew Dr. Moskovitz, how he operated on me about 3 months earlier. It must have been hours later when he came in and told me that he would do what he could, but that it looked grave. I might possibly have to go to Harborview, Seattle’s trauma center. Again, that didn’t seem to upset me, sadly enough, I don’t remember praying or trying to make my peace with God. It just went blank and I was just numb. I came to consciousness when they took me and loaded me into an ambulance. Taken to the other Everett hospital, Colby Campus, where they did the surgery, I told the anesthesiologist my concern about being opiate-tolerant. He assured me not to worry. The next thing I recall was waking up in a room that had a lot of stuff I knew to be medical equipment, but at the same time, I thought there were zoo animals in my room. I remember calling for my mom, who had been dead for fifteen years. Then I called for my sister, I guess the nurse heard me and came in and knocked me out again. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was in the ICU. When I got to what must have been a regular hospital room, I had all kinds of tubes and machines hooked up to me. I didn’t know exactly what they did or the severity of what my condition was. Because this had become routine for me, I was oblivious to the seriousness of the situation. I had a number of things wrong with me. From my abscesses, I acquired Sepsis, that is where poison gains access to your blood running throughout your body affecting other organs. My paralysis was determined to be Rhabdomyolysis, caused partially from immobilization. My bodily functions were shutting down by Renal Failure (kidney failure).
Initial Admit Report PDF

Surgery, Wound Care, & Sking Graphs

The only thing I would add at this point about my surgery is to give you and excerpt from Dr. Moskovitz's report:

Full Surgeon's Report PDF

The wound-vac machine made it so I wouldn’t have to endure the conventional way of wound closure and wound care. This method was much better than the traditional dressing changes that I would have went through. Instead of having my bandages changed three times a day, with the wound-vac, I only needed them changed every other day. First, there were some black foam bandages that filled in my wounds, over that a clear plastic covering, like saran wrap. There were tubes that connected so that when they hooked them to the machine it would suck all the air out like shrink-wrap. One way you knew the machine was working properly was if the foam under the plastic wrap had an appearance like a raisin. Many friends, upon their first visit, thought the raisin looking foam was my actual skin. This would cause one to presume the skin had died or was burnt looking, the result of my condition. On the contrary, my wound area was moist and red. The wound-vac machine would efficiently suck all the juices and gunk that was in my wound as I started to heal. It was a crude foul looking fluid, with a cloudy pinkish color. This would collect in a container that fit on the side of the main housing unit. Although this treatment was “State of the art”, it had its drawbacks. If the machine acted up or went offline for any reason, it would be very painful when it started up again. The suction would create a painful burning sensation.

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