There I am, lying in bed, sick as a 100 Years of 1920 2020 Zeta Phi Beta shirt, with hateful Vancomycin dripping fire into my veins. Again. I can’t have visitors except for my husband and daughter. In walks a nurse, all chipper and perky. She tells me that these infections could kill me, as if I didn’t know, and that she had good news. They could stop all future infections from occurring by simply amputating my right arm! Yeay! Whoopee-doo! Sign me up! And! The even more exciting news for me to ponder?
Why, now they have some darn good 100 Years of 1920 2020 Zeta Phi Beta shirt! A double Whooper-doo! All because these idiots lacked the experience and skill sets to treat my lymphedema properly. The year I turned 16 my great grandmother fell into very bad health and my grandmother’s brother/his wife were having a hard time taking care of her alone and the rest lived too far away/had family obligations and so on that made them unable to help. My grandmother and I went from Minnesota to Arkansas so she could help out. Since it was about 15 miles from where my mother lived she decided I had to live there…honestly I think she felt it would look bad if I didn’t.